But that’s not really the story of Christ’s Church.

The real story is a 22-year-old noblewoman choosing the arena over her infant son. A bishop at 86 who couldn’t stop smiling when they lit the fire. A Czech priest who sealed his convictions with his own blood. A Nigerian teenager who posted about Jesus on a group chat and paid for it with her life.

Let’s trace church history through a different lens looking at people being the church for a moment...

Stephen (AD 35)

A deacon in the early Jerusalem church, Stephen was dragged before the Sanhedrin on

false charges of blasphemy. He delivered a sweeping sermon through Israel’s history accused the council of betraying the Messiah - and was stoned to death outside the city walls. As the rocks fell, he prayed for his killers, echoing Christ’s words on the cross. He was the first to follow Jesus all the way to death.

Polycarp (AD 155)

Bishop of Smyrna and a disciple of the Apostle John, Polycarp was the last living connection to those who had walked with Jesus. Arrested in old age, he was brought to the stadium and given one final chance: curse Christ and go free.

He refused with a single sentence that has echoed through church history for nearly 2,000 years. He was burned at the stake. Some of his last words were, “”Eighty-six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?”

Justin (AD 165)

A Greek philosopher who converted to Christianity after years of searching, Justin became the first great intellectual defender of the faith - writing to Roman emperors to argue for its reasonableness. He was arrested in Rome, tried before the prefect Rusticus, and refused to sacrifice to the gods. He was beheaded alongside six companions. His writings remain among the most important documents of the early church.

Perpetua & Felicity (AD 203)

A young, enslaved woman, Felicity was eight months pregnant when arrested in Carthage for refusing to renounce Christ. Roman law forbids executing pregnant women - meaning she would die late, alone, separated from her companions.

Her fellow prisoners prayed she would give birth in time. She did, two days before the execution. When guards mocked her labor pains and warned her worse was coming in the arena, she answered with words that silenced them – “”What I suffer now, I suffer alone. But then another will be in me, suffering for me - because I will be suffering for Him.”

Well-educated, honest, of good character, and a young mother, Perpetua was arrested with her friend and slave, Felicity, and a handful of other Christians during the games in honor of Emperor Septimius Severus. Her father, who feared for her safety, often asked her to deny her faith.

One day, when confronted by her father, Perpetua pointed to a vase in their home and asked her father if he could call it anything other than what it was. “Of course not!” was his reply. Perpetua then said, “Just like this vase cannot be called anything other than what it is, so I cannot be called anything other than what I am, a Christian.” Despite her father’s persistence, Perpetua remained steadfast in her belief, and when the authorities did come for her, she did not bat an eye.

Tertullian (220 AD)

One of the most influential church fathers was Tertullian, he is famously known for saying these words…

“Kill us, torture us, condemn us, grind us to dust; your injustice is the proof that we are innocent... The oftener we are mown down by you, the more in number we grow; the blood of Christians is the seed of the Church”

Jan Hus (1415 AD)

Jan Hus, in Prague, was burned alive in the center of town. I will never forget him because when I was 18 years old I was in Prague on a mission trip and we stood at the feet of his statue and our team leader told us his last words on Earth –

“What I have preached with my lips, I now seal with my blood.”

Witnesses said that they could hear him singing hymns to God as the flames took his body.

Which of these saints from the first 500 years of the church do you most connect with and why?

May we live as passionately and with such joy for life as they did!

Grace and Peace

Matt

This is how I felt 4 years ago before I found The Way Back To Ourselves community!

I had been struggling in my writing so much and I was living with such imposter syndrome about anything I would try and write. I told myself, “who are you to be writing about soul care, mental health and spiritual formation - look at what a mess your life is.”

I believed my writing was never going to be valuable to myself or anyone else. I was having lots of bouts of anxiety and depression in general about if I would ever do ministry that would impact people.

Then the clouds parted and (to be honest, I can’t even remember how it happened) but I came across and this new creative community that she had created called The Way Back To Ourselves. I messaged Kimberly and we discovered that we had so much in common and so many of the same people.

I jumped into some online poetry and writing nights and started to build community. If you have been here in my Substack community, you know that I was a Pastor for over 30 years and in 2020 it all came crashing down. I had been spiritually abused and had so much church hurt and intense ministry burnout, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to talk with God ever again. I had ashes of my faith and had no desire to be part of a church anywhere.

This community was a huge part of my healing. You could say that they helped me find the way back to myself (see what I did there).

Kimberly started having conversations with us around actually getting together in person and perhaps having a retreat for other writers, artists and creatives. In 2024 we gathered for our FIRST EVER Cultivate Retreat!

Last year we gathered online due to some health challenges by some of our team and it was still a great retreat but we all missed being together.

I AM PROUD TO SAY…WE ARE BACK TOGETHER IN PERSON THIS YEAR !!!

IT’S TIME TO GET ROOTED.

ARE YOU LOOKING FOR... COMMUNITY & BELONGING, WRITING & PUBLISHING WORKSHOPS, SPIRITUAL DIRECTION, INSPIRATIONAL, KEYNOTE SPEAKERS, “YOU CHOOSE” BREAKOUT SESSIONS, AN ARTIST’S MARKET, WORSHIP MUSIC, ENTERTAINMENT, AND MORE?

WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED.

We are partnering with First Presbyterian Church in Greenville. Their mission is to transform the heart of their city and we here at The Way Back To Ourselves want to transform writers, artists, creatives for the glory of God.

Downtown Greenville, South Carolina

We have some incredble people that will be speaking and sharing how they are discovering their deep roots in Jesus in the midst of this chaotic world all around us.

Over the course of the weekend, we’ll be joined by Stephen Roach of The Breath and the Clay, Amanda Held Opelt, musician and author of A Hole in the World and Holy Unhappiness. We also are blessed to welcome Ben Palpant, author of An Axe for the Frozen Sea with Rabbit Room Press.

We also will hear from our TWBTO Team - seriously this is a powerhouse team!

I hope you’ll join me and our TWBTO team in Greenville: Deidre Braley, myself Matthew Nash, Chelsea Fraser, Edward Holmes, Heather Lobe Johnson, Mariana Herrera Mosli, Sarah Steele, and more. As well as TWBTO community members, like debut poets Rosa Lía Gilbert and Deborah Rutherford, Jason Fullerton, and Lisa M. Johnson.

On Friday before the retreat, I will be leading a PRE-WORKSHOP on The Beatitudes and Spiritual Practices. If you decide to come, please sign up HERE for this workshop.

On Friday night we are having a Community Meal to begin our weekend together and my friend will be our Dinner Host. He is an amazing writer, poet, Educator and farmer.

We only have 25 tickets left ! Grab yours today and join us!

Also, for anyone who buys a ticket from now until June 10th when ticket sales end, will get 2 FREE SPIRITUAL DIRECTION SESSIONS WITH ME as well as a FREE 30 DAY DEVOTIONAL at the retreat.

Also, will include 3 FREE MONTHS SUBSCRIPTION to The Way Back To Ourselves Substack and Community!

TICKETS ARE ON SALE NOW THROUGH JUNE 10th.

Click on the link below to learn more and grab your ticket. More details will be coming soon about sessions, agenda, events, and speakers. SEATS ARE LIMITED. So, stay tuned!

GRAB YOUR TICKET HERE

Hope you can make it and be rooted in love with us!

Grace and Peace

Matthew Nash

(Photo: Christ the Mother Hen by Kelly Latimore)

This is my manuscript from my sermon “Love Like A Mother” which was preached at Resurrection Church in Ocean Beach, CA on Mother’s Day, May 13th, 2026. The audio above is the sermon that you can listen to here or download if you want to share it with others. My title is based on my friend and her book by the same title that was released on May 5, 2026. My prayer is that you will read that book and see the love of God as a mother everyday of your life. And now for the sermon text…

When I was a kid and I tried to wrap my head around the idea of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, it just made my head hurt. My imagination about God was like a swirling ball of light and energy with a booming voice. Jesus was a bit easier, tall white guy with a robe and a blue sash with cascading locks of hair and feet that seemed to float through the first century streets of Palestine until the crucifixion and resurrection. The Holy Spirit was more like the Force from Star Wars but God forbid you say that out loud and be accused of heresy. Now that I am well into my second half of life, my images of God have improved and expanded.

Jesus is a brown skinned man with nail marks on his hands, his feet and his side that one theologian referred to as looking similar to the opening of the birth canal on women’s bodies, which is a beautiful metaphor for how Jesus’s death was a birth for new life.

When I think of the Spirit now, I call her Sophia for that is how wisdom and the deep knowing of the Divine is described in the Hebrew book of Proverbs when the writer encourages us to drink from the spring of wisdom and knowledge.

(Photo: Trinity by Andrei Rublev)

In Proverbs, she (wisdom is written about as feminine in the Old Testament and the Hebrew word for the Spirit is Ruach which is feminine in the language) claims to have been present with God before creation, acting as a “master craftsman” or “nurturer” while the world was made.

“The Lord brought me forth as the first of God’s works,
before his deeds of old;

I was formed long ages ago,
at the very beginning, when the world came to be.

When there were no watery depths, I was given birth,
when there were no springs overflowing with water;

before the mountains were settled in place,
before the hills, I was given birth. (Proverbs 8:22-25)

The imagery draws on these roles of a maker mother to illustrate wisdom’s active role in building, nurturing, and protecting life

If men and women are both made in the imago dei, the image of God, then God has both a masculine side and a feminine side to God’s self. Sadly though, in our modern church, we only talk about God and the Holy Spirit as “he” because of the masculine pronouns found in Hebrew and it has led to a toxic patriarchy that is killing the church, the Bride of Christ.

The writer says it like this,

“Christianity shaped by patriarchy could not reconcile the “relinquishing Jesus” with their understanding of masculinity. So the church reinvented Jesus. Out with the suffering man, in came the triumphant Christ with a gold throne, domination and power. Empire needed a masculine God to justify masculine dominance. However, when we return to the first few centuries of the faith, we find the feminine everywhere. Women apostles, women deacons, women prophets, feminine mysticism, tenderness, embodiment, grief, surrender. Divine feminine presence even and especially in and with the yielding Jesus at calvary. Perhaps empire christianity fears most the presence and power of the feminine because when she is near, empire will not survive.”

This quote (not in my sermon audio) by Claire McKeever-Burgett is from the introduction of her book, In the Beginning Were the Women: Matriarchs, Mystics, Wise Women, and Warriors in the Hebrew Bible

“To woman is to live in such a way that uproots and uplifts the untold, incomplete stories of our lives and places, at the very center, the voices and the names of those whom society, culture, and systems have relegated to the sidelines, or tried to erase altogether. In this way, one’s body does not make them a woman as much as one’s life and how they live it does. However, our bodies do matter because of the ways women’s bodies have been hypersexualized and shamed (especially when those bodies are of the conquered and colonized people) while men’s bodies are, by and large, unexamined and lifted as the standard bearers for all. Therefore, placing women, our bodies, and the stories we hold within them at the very center of our sacred narratives is an essential practice for the reclamation of our faith in God and of God’s faith in us.

You can discover her and her books HERE

(Photo by Justice Unbound)

Our gospel passage today begins with Jesus saying that love has to be the central posture to this way of life.

John 14:15-21

Jesus said, ”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.”

In another occasion when Jesus was asked to declare the greatest commandment, he summed the entire Jewish code of 613 laws into one statement.

Love God. Love people.

Loving your neighbor as yourself means inviting them to participate in the full inclusion of unity between Father, Son, and Spirit while Jesus also unifies with his disciples: female and male.

Hearing the echoes of the Wisdom of Solomon and our reading of John 14:15-21 invites full participation and full inclusion into the family of God without the gender hierarchy that still permeates many ecclesial spaces today. Love means taking action to ensure that all members have access to be loved by the Father, loved by the Son, and live a full life with the help of the feminine Spirit.

My friend just released her book this week, Love Like a Mother. (For more with her and I see my Substack Live on my page that we did in May)

In it she shares the birth story of when her youngest son, Lewis was born. She describes how painful and anguished she was through the birth and then when he is finally delivered she stretches out her body and cries out for him with her arms outstretched. She then connects this difficult birth and then kissing his toes and knees and face, with the moment that Jesus stretches out and gives up his spirit on the cross. She says,

“I wonder if God is like a mother who has just delivered a baby. A postpartum God who lies on the cross, arms outstretched, reaching for us with the last of his breathless strength.

It is this postpartum God that I envision on the seventh day of creation, shivering with intensity after the effort of birthing creation, joy coursing through their body. The postpartum mother understands this, embodies this divine love as she covers each finger and toes, each kneecap and knuckle, each cheek with kisses - it is good, it is good, it is very good.”

I was talking with Elizabeth over the last few weeks about this book and her excitement about it coming out and she reminded me that it is our expressions of love, and specifically the love of a mother, that helps us understand the Divine more.

She told me that we learn about who God is long before we have words for theology. From our earliest days our moms love us by nourishing, comforting, protecting and coming when we call. And God shows up with this same maternal posture in the Bible

Like a Nursing Mother - Isaiah 66:13

Like a fierce mama bear - Hosea 13:8

Always hearing our cries and drawing near - Isaiah 65:24

The word compassion in Hebrew, Rechem, literally means “womb love” which my friend (who some of you know when she came and did retreats here with me) has those words tattooed on her arm. In her book, Faithfully Dissident Daughters (coming out September 8th) , she says,

“Learning to see God in the feminine helped me to see that growing, birthing, and feeding babies are all sacred acts, a reflection of God’s love for us, divine, primarily feminine functions experienced by God and humans alike. Of course, you don’t have to be a woman, have a womb, or hold the title of biological mother to reflect this aspect of God. All of us are capable of compassion. The phrase “moved by compassion” is used upwards of fourteen times in the Gospel accounts to describe Jesus’s reaction to people suffering. The Greek word there is splagchnizomai, which contains a root word that refers to the inward parts of the body, and particularly the lower abdomen. Could that be referring to the womb as well?”

One of the first expressions of God’s sustaining and nurturing support of us is in Genesis 17:1 when God is talking with Abraham and refers to himself as “El Shaddai”

Now I know I am not alone in the room today where a lot of us remember the song from the 80’s that Amy Grant sang, El Shaddai - I used to sway and sing that like every day.

That word Shad in Shaddai means “breast” suggesting God is the “All-Sufficient One” who nourishes and sustains people like a mother.

The use of feminine metaphors is not a modern invention; early church figures like Teresa of Avila and Julian of Norwich spoke of God as Mother to emphasize God’s compassion and nurturing presence

Today is mothers day and my mother is with us. My mom, Mary Lucinda Nash, was born on May 7, 1943. I came into the world in October of 1972 and every day of my life, almost 54 years, I have felt the unconditional love of a mother who embodies the unconditional love of God.

My Mom & I on Mother’s Day

I want to finish today by leading us all through a breath prayer that Elizabeth shares in this chapter on the Mother Love of God in Birth and Delivery.

Breath prayers have become part of my daily practice and I hope this will help you feel the Divine feminine’s love for you today in the midst of a chaotic world right now, knowing that God is with us.

Inhale: I feel broken

Exhale: I am beloved, born of God

(Photo: Anonymous)

I hope you have enjoyed this journey of seeing God love us like a mother. Please read the books by Claire, Elizabeth and Chelsea as a way to learn more about the Divine Feminine and the metaphor of God loving us like a mother.

Now go and call your mom and tell her you love her…that’s what I will be doing right now.

Grace and Peace

Matt Nash

A few weeks ago, I did a Substack Live with Elizabeth and we had an amazing conversation about her book, the Divine Feminine in Scripture and how she has been caring for her family and her community in the midst of a chaotic year. At the heart of Love like a Mother is a gentle invitation for you to rediscover the God of the Bible as the one who gestates, births, nourishes, comforts, and protects—just like a mother.

I had the privilege of being on her launch team and so was able to read a ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of the book. I could not put it down.

In fact I ended up reading it twice in the time between first receiving it and now.

It was such an embodiment of pure love and grace!

I was especially struck by a particular phrase that is from Isaiah 46 and she sums up the care that God gives us in the phrase, “I will carry you.” She then talks about all the ways she has done this for her children in a million ways on a thousand days through all the good times and hard times of parenting - I will carry you.

In another section she describes the birth story of one of her children, Lewis, and the moment that he comes into the world, she sat up and outstretched her arms in both love and desperation.

Then, when I think that I cannot cry any more crocodile tears, Berget then talks about the death of Jesus of Nazareth on the cross in this beautiful way…

“…as a Postpartum God who lies on the cross arms outstretched.”

They simply don’t make enough Kleenex for a moment like this.

In Hebrew, the word for our English word, “compassion” is Rackum (רחמים).

It literally means “Womb Love”

That is some next level presence from a Divine Mother who has birthed us all and who has untold compassion for every person that has ever been born or will be born.

Another great feature of the book is at the end of each chapter, she includes some spiritual practices to live out and a breath prayer to practice. These in my opinion are the “secret sauce” of this book because when we can live the words of a book rather than just read them, it is transformative!

Enough of my words…I want you to hear from Elizabeth herself. We got permission from her amazing publisher, to include an excerpt of the book that releases TOMORROW, MAY 5th!!!

So without further ado, here is Chapter One of Love Like a Mother by

1

Wombs and the Weaver

The Mother- Love of God in Pregnancy

I stood in the predawn light of our bathroom with one hand slung around my husband’s waist and the other gingerly holding a freshly used pregnancy test. The three- minute tilt- a- whirl of waiting for results had finally come to a stop, and I now found myself considering the bacterial ramifications of saving the pregnancy test in a Ziploc bag as a memento for posterity. I was going to have a baby.

Minutes earlier, I had hobbled my very full bladder into the bathroom and ripped open the box I’d so carefully placed on the counter the night before. I had crossed and uncrossed my legs as I squinted once more at the tiny printed instructions on how and when and where to urinate. Never one to play fast and loose with the rules, I’d stopped just short of using a level to ensure that the back of our toilet was actually a flat surface, per the guidance given. After a deep breath, I’d gone for it. I had counted my Mississippis, started my phone’s timer, and then joined my bleary eyed husband in the hallway. While we waited, I worked to slow my breathing in an attempt to convince my anxious body that I wasn’t actually standing at the dizzying edge of a steep precipice. When the timer rang out, we’d stood in the bathroom and hugged after a bewildered first and then delighted second look at those two pink lines, and I fell head over heels off the edge into something between overwhelmed and overjoyed.

I wasn’t exactly surprised by the pregnancy; we’d waited five years into our marriage to try. The truth was, I’d felt ready for kids for a little over a year (though, at the time, I would not have known what “ready for kids” was if it had punched me in my well- rested face). But what did surprise me was how quickly the mantle of motherhood settled into my bones— or maybe just into my head, which at that point felt like it was audibly pounding. I had decided, out of an abundance of caution, to give up caffeine entirely, so the headache that consumed me as I journeyed into motherhood was the very first drop in what would become a cascading waterfall of sacrifice and love for my kids.

That instinct to protect the life within overtook me quickly and fiercely. Outwardly, I may have complained about being bereft of so much of what makes this life worth living: soft, unpasteurized Brie on crostini, a glass of red wine on a Thursday night while watching The Office, napping on my stomach at the beach. Yet on some ancient, internal level, I knew that I would happily give up these things forever if it meant my baby stayed safe. And that is just what mothers do. When those two lines appear on the test, they add up to more than just an addition to the family. In that moment, |+| equals a new life, a new identity. Moms- to- be intuitively begin to check for signs of spotting with each visit to the bathroom; they force down prenatal horse pills and count every flutter and kick. Their lives begin to revolve around the effort to create a life that is happy and healthy for the baby within. In short, their wombs become cultivators of compassion. And God is no stranger to this kind of compassion.

The Wombed Compassion of God

It is tricky to picture God with a womb, isn’t it? It’s easier for us to imagine a God who looks like Zeus, complete with bulging biceps and a white beard. But Christian tradition teaches us that this image stems more from Renaissance art than it does from the pages of Scripture. The consensus that God has no gender reflects broadly accepted teaching among most corners of Christendom, from Richard Rohr to John Piper. Piper himself, who once controversially stated that God gave Christianity a “masculine feel,” nonetheless dispelled the image of a Zeus- like God when he said, “God is not male. . . . From eternity, God has not had a body—a physical body— and therefore, he doesn’t have male features: facial hair, musculature, male genitals, no Y chromosome, no male hormones. . . . ‘Male’ is a biological word, and God is not a biological being.”1 This matters because considering God a male diminishes God, who exists above and beyond human categorizations. But in Exodus 19, no one would have blamed the newly freed Israelites for picturing a dominant, masculine deity, like those of some of their neighboring cultures. We read that they stood like ants at the base of a mountain that was covered with dark clouds and violently shaking, waiting to formally meet this God who had parted the seas and turned the Nile bloody. We read, “All the people who were in the camp trembled” when God descended on the mountain in raging fire and billowing smoke and thundered the law down from the summit (Exod. 19:16). But fifteen chapters after these first impressions, it’s almost as if God pauses, having gotten ahead of himself, and provides an overdue introduction to his new people. In Exodus 34:6 we find God’s very first self- description of his character in the Bible, and what we read, given the context, is surprisingly comforting and unexpectedly maternal: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness” (NIV).

The first self- referencing descriptor God uses is compassionate, which in Hebrew carries a lot more intensity than it does in English. The word is rakhum, and it has its roots in the Hebrew word for womb (rekhem), which indicates that the compassion of God, the rakhum of God, is a womb- born, deeply emotional love that time and again moves God to act on behalf of his children. The word conveys the urgency that a mother feels when her baby cries— an instinctive, reflective response that she feels in her body to soothe her baby’s distress. We read of God’s rakhum for the Israelites when they were enslaved in Egypt. God heard their cries and was deeply moved, urged by his compassion to the incredible acts that led to their liberation. Later, in Psalm 51:1, it was God’s rakhum compassion that King David appealed to when he prayed for forgiveness after wronging Bathsheba:

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. (NIV)

It was rakhum that compelled God to respond to the desperate cries of his exiled children later in the Old Testament, saying, “Can a woman forget her nursing child or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these might forget, yet I will not forget you” (Isa. 49:15). With these words, the prophet Isaiah was essentially asserting, “Can a woman forget to ‘womb’ the son of her womb?”2

Perhaps the most stark example of the meaning of rakhum comes in the account of Solomon and the baby. You have probably heard the story; it’s a memorable one. Two women from the same household each had a baby within days of one another. One of the babies tragically died, and an allegation was made that the mother of the deceased baby had swapped the babies in the night, claiming the living baby as her own.

Solomon pondered this accusation and declared that the baby should be cut in two so that each mother could take a half. While the lying mother agreed to Solomon’s ruling, the true mother of the living baby was deeply moved out of her rakhum. Pastor and author Chad Bird writes, “The Hebrew [in 1 Kings 3:26] is something like ‘her wombs warmed,’ that is, ‘her compassions grew hot within her.’ This mother, who had borne this child in her womb, ‘wombed’ him once more. Far from being cold- hearted, like the lying mother in this story, the true mother was warm- wombed toward him. So much so, in fact, that as she told Solomon, she would rather the false mother have the child than that he should be cut in two. Such womb- like compassion is gripping and unforgettable.”

This is rakhum. And if God chose this wombed word to begin his spoken self- revelation, then perhaps it is there that we should begin the search for an answer to the question: Does God love us like a mother? Rakhum gives us a picture of love that is at once both divine and distinctly maternal. God loves us with a womb- like love that is overflowing with emotion and intervening action. It is caring protection, inextricable oneness, and constant provision. In rakhum we find a description of God that surrounds us with safety and love, who cannot help but come when we call.

In rakhum we find a God who loves like a mother. And from the very beginning of the journey into motherhood, from the moment we see those two pink lines and begin to restructure our entire lives around this other tiny person, we are mirroring this womb- like love of God, even in, especially in, what we give up.

What We Give Up

In those early months of pregnancy, I learned quickly just how often motherhood and sacrifice go hand in hand, and I learned it while kneeling, head bowed and eyes closed, in humble submission before a porcelain altar. While once I had been a person who could make and eat a turkey sandwich, now the very sight of the packaged deli meat in my refrigerator drawer made me want to retch. I had previously loved sampling the world of cuisines available in my city zip code, but I could no longer drive by my neighborhood taqueria without reaching for one of the plastic bags I kept in the glove compartment, just in case. On one freezing February night, I even made Eric take an entire half-cooked pizza into the backyard while I opened every window in the house because the odor of the baking pizza had completely overwhelmed me. In my defense, I was suffering. In Eric’s defense, so was he.

The only thing propelling me through the dark haze of nausea— other than carbonated water and saltines— was the knowledge that all of it, even the time I relinquished my lunch in an alley, was for my baby. What continually came to mind for me during those moments were words from Philippians 2, which may seem forced and overly spiritual, unless you knew me when I was twelve. I had just entered middle school when the pastor of our church issued a challenge to the congregation at the outset of his sermon series on Philippians: “Memorize and recite the entire book, three mistakes or less, and I will give you $50!”What luck! I thought, I’m short on cash and bored out of my mind at church. This will give me something to do, and maybe I’ll even have enough money to get those JNCO jeans my mom refuses to buy me! So for the next few months, I worked at memorizing each of the four chapters— during sermons, car rides, at the breakfast table, and even in the shower.

Finally the day came. With a nod at my mom, who remained behind chatting with the church secretaries, I entered the pastor’s office and sat across from him at his imposing oak desk. After a deep breath, I began, pausing only occasionally as I rattled off all 2,294 words of the book of Philippians. Our pastor was silent, but he nodded along promisingly as he checked my recitation against the thick NIV Bible in front of him, his wire- rimmed reading glasses sliding toward the tip of his nose. It was only after I’d reached the end that he revealed I’d omitted, switched, or changed five words, just two over the limit, and that I would not be receiving the $50 reward. Cheeks flushed, I remember nodding and, I think, thanking him before opening his heavy door and walking out. I quickly made eye contact with my mom, shaking my head to indicate my failure. As we drove away, I told her that I had made too many mistakes, glumly thinking what a waste of time and effort this had been. But I woke up the next morning to an envelope containing $100 on my bedside table, courtesy of my parents, who were stone- cold incredulous that our pastor had been such a stickler with a kid.

I still remember the $100. More important, I still remember many sections and phrases of Philippians that I will probably be able to spout off alongside Destiny’s Child lyrics when I am old and forgetful. But perhaps entrenched most deeply are Paul’s words from Philippians 2:5–8, arguably the heart of the book:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.

In these verses, Paul speaks of the humility and unimaginable sacrifice of Jesus’s incarnation as he gave up robes of radiant light, equality with God himself, and earth as a footstool in exchange for human form— complete with our heartbreaks and sore throats and faulty eyesight. Here we see a God who willingly limited his ageless eternality to be born a baby, live life as a servant, and eventually succumb to an excruciating death. The trade- offs are unthinkable: The God who stretched out the skies as a blanket and danced on rolling ocean waves gave up perfect trinitarian communion in order to redeem us. The immensity and magnitude of this sacrifice take on new meaning within the “nearly self- obliterating sacrifices of motherhood.”

In the early days of pregnancy, as we reorient our lives around our growing babies, as we trade wine and caffeine for flavorless crackers, and as we become more familiar than we’d like with the various toilets and trash bins in our orbits, literally emptying ourselves, we have the opportunity to echo the crescendo of Christ’s sacrifice with our own. As we stumble through our days without sleep and without respite from nausea, trading lives of freedom for the subsequent eighteen years marked by voluntary limitations, service, and sacrifice, we are bearing the image of a God who sacrificed immeasurably more so that we, his children, might live. And that sacrifice stretches far beyond driving past our favorite sushi place. As we shift our identities to mother, and as our bodies seemingly revolt against everything they’ve ever loved, we often find that we need to adjust our pace as well as many of our former habits. Buried somewhere in my basement is a dusty box containing file folders full of pamphlets, patient handouts, and birth class notes I accrued during my combined twenty- seven months of being pregnant and giving birth. Amid manufacturer brochures for breast pumps, leaflets about the dangers of preeclampsia, and half- filled charts tracking wet diapers lie pages upon pages detailing the importance of caring for your body during pregnancy and after giving birth. In that season, I was inundated with reminders to get enough sleep, eat healthy food, and drink enough water every day to endure a trek across the Sahara.

This is for good reason. In pregnancy and the early years of motherhood, our bodies are literally reorganized. We navigate hormonal upheavals, relentless nausea, and draining exhaustion. One study even found that during pregnancy our bodies expend energy at similar rates to elite athletes participating in ultra- endurance races, but we sustain this intense output for nine long months!5 This is a time in our lives when we are forced to face our limitations head on. Our bodies demand that we slow down because we are simply unable to do what we’ve always done. We are forced to do less. And God knows this. In Isaiah 40:11, the prophet writes of God,

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young. (NIV)

God knows how weary you are and how your back hurts from carrying all that extra belly. God knows how little you’ve been able to keep down. God knows how many times your newborn woke you up last night. God knows how your arms ache from lugging around the diaper bag and the toddler who went on a walking strike halfway home from the park. God knows that tantrum yesterday afternoon nearly took you out. God knows how the laundry never ends, how crabby your tweenager is, how many times a day you hear someone call, “Mom?” God knows how hard you’re trying.

And God is gentle with you. God gently leads those who have young, and this God is not asking you to keep up. God knows your early morning quiet times got obliterated by your baby’s six- month sleep regression. God knows why you keep falling asleep when you finally get a moment to pray. God knows that preschool pickup is right in the middle of your church’s midweek Bible study for moms. God knows how your calendar is filled with soccer practices, play rehearsals, and birthday parties, and how each day is filled with so much— from the time the baby wakes up at the crack of dawn to the time your high schooler is finally ready for bed. But there is no checklist in the Shepherd’s hands. Instead, there is an invitation to do less.

In motherhood, we can find new ways to connect with God that we didn’t have access to before. In the lived experience of our bodies as they create human life, in the sacrifice of sleeplessness, in the euphoria we experience when that baby first belly laughs, we get to know God’s love for us a little more each day. As we walk with God through the everyday work of growing and raising humans, we are given endless reminders of God’s love for us in the love we have for our kids. God is already with us in the midst of it all, ordaining the ordinary and holding us as our arms grow heavy.

Rest assured, we do not have to do what we’ve always done. We can give up our ceaseless striving and instead fall in with the slower pace of our Gentle Shepherd. We can do less, assured of the abundant love and grace that God has for us in this season of being with our young.

God as Weaver

Slowly but surely, I clawed my way out of my first trimester. With each flutter and kick made by the life within me, I grew more and more mindful of my womb. As my baby grew and rolled over, making himself known with fists and elbows and feet pushing into my rib cage, I marveled at the God who “formed my inward parts . . . [and] knit me together in my mother’s womb . . . when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth” (Ps. 139:13–15). I hung up each blurry black- and- white sonogram image on the fridge and reveled in the fact that God was quite literally weaving my baby together inside of me.

In his book Body of Praise, W. David O. Taylor writes of the creation of humans: From this man’s flesh (Ish), moreover, God takes a rib, and then sews up the gash in the man’s wounded side. With the rib, God now makes a different kind of creature—a woman creature (Ishah). Holding this human- dirt in hand, so to speak, God possesses the human creature wholly, echoing in this way the language of Psalm 139:13, where God is said to knit the psalmist in his mother’s womb. It is the picture of God as weaver, making human beings out of a plait of bone, sinew, and vein.

What I personally know of weaving stems from a brief but intense chokehold that a toy weaving loom had on me in the early 1990s. Over the course of several weeks, I “wove” my mother thirty- seven potholders. As suddenly as the obsession overtook me, it faded just as quickly. But what we know from history is that the art of weaving has predominantly been tasked to women, from the weaving tools found buried with women in excavations of ancient graves to the intricate embroidery practiced by many cultures, like Hmong women, today. While the Industrial Revolution turned weaving into a male enterprise, at the time Psalm 139 was written, weaving would have most certainly still been considered “women’s work.” And with the word knit, this psalm gives us an image of God that is unexpectedly feminine. What’s more is that in the knitting together of individual humans, we are given a micro- picture of God’s maternal work in gestating all of creation.

In Genesis 1:2, we read of watery nothingness— tohu wabohu - in Hebrew— or “wild and waste” as the creators of the Bible Project put it. Water was often a symbol of chaos in the ancient world, and over this dark deep we find the Spirit of God, hovering or “brooding” like a mother bird over her eggs (Gen. 1:2 AMP). Her babies are at first unformed, hidden within the darkness of their shells, until the day they burst forth into the light with perfectly ordered beaks, wings, and tails. Likewise, in Genesis, the Spirit of God broods over the swirling disorder of unformed precreation, calling forth light from darkness, order from chaos, life from nothingness. While any body part assigned to God in Scripture serves as a symbol, it is significant that the womb is the only reproductive organ assigned to God in the Bible.8 We read of this imagery in Job 38:8 and 29, when we are asked, “Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb,” or “From whose womb did the ice come forth, and who has given birth to the hoarfrost of heaven?” Isaiah gave us an even more intimate image of God’s womb when he spoke to his people:

Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am he; even when you turn gray I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save. (Isa. 46:3–4)

At that moment in Israel’s history, God was preparing his children for deliverance and trying to impress on them just how much more trustworthy he was than the idols of Babylon. And God did this by encouraging them to think of their mother’s love, to remember the ways she had carried them since before they were born. Christy Bauman explores this kind of carrying in her beautiful book Theology of the Womb. When confronted with fear of loss during pregnancy, Bauman writes that she would imagine herself surrounded by a silver shield covering her entire body:

[The shield] felt representative of what the small child inside of me was experiencing, being surrounded by, yes, my uterus and nourished by my placenta, but even more surrounded by me, its life- source, its mother, its creator. In my fear and anxiety, I began to trust a theology of the womb, that I, this child’s mother, had little control but was surrounded in the womb of God. God carries each of us in a womb, and women, in turn, have been invited into the understanding of carrying a child in our womb. I am surrounded by the great Creator, the most nurturing Mother. All of us are ultimately surrounded by the one who wove us together in our mothers’ wombs. And those mothers who have been pregnant have had the distinct privilege of cocreating life with this wombed God, mirroring the work of God as their bodies grew a cluster of cells, hidden in the dark of their wombs, into a new life.

God Within a Womb

One surefire way to eat a dozen frosted cut- out cookies in a row is to be heavily pregnant and hormonal around Christmastime. I was nine months along with Elsa in late December 2013, and never before had I thought as much about Mary the mother of Jesus. As my hips stretched and ached, I shuddered at the thought of getting on a donkey for a road trip. As I toured pristine birth centers and hospital wings, I grimaced as I pictured giving birth next to a pile of manure. With my own uncertainty about my looming birth, I began to consider the actual, physical experience of Jesus’s mother in new ways. It’s easy for us to picture Mary as she is presented to us in Christmas pageants, glowing in clean blue linen as she stares down at the cherubic face of her newborn. But the mystery of the incarnation invites us to imagine a nauseated Mary, a hormonal Mary, a Mary with cravings that weirded Joseph out.

Theologian Lucy Peppiatt, building on insights from the early church father Tertullian, reflects on why God would choose pregnancy and a human woman as a portal for the incarnation: “Jesus is made ‘of her,’ not just ‘in her.’ He is made from her and not just through her. She is not only a receptacle of the Divine, she contributes from her own body.”10 We know that half a child’s DNA comes from the mother, so it is meaningful, if not essential, to the incarnation that Jesus spent time in a woman’s womb. Beyond that, it is significant to our understanding of God’s love to know that “God chose to have a mother.”

In the 1960s, scientists discovered the existence of maternal microchimerism, which is the exchange of cells between a fetus and mother. During pregnancy, fetal cells cross the placenta into the mother’s bloodstream and vice versa. But the amazing thing is that the effects of microchimerism last well beyond pregnancy. In fact, fetal cells have been found in mothers, and maternal cells in their children, up to decades after birth. What’s even more extraordinary is that some studies have shown that fetal cells actively travel to maternal organs that are injured and in need of healing, in some instances landing on C- section scars to help produce needed collagen. Similarly, theories are emerging that maternal cells from microchimerism may contribute to healing in children as well. This lasting connectivity between mothers and their children speaks volumes about the love God has for his own children.

Read again this passage from Isaiah 46 in my own words: “Listen! I have carried you from the womb, carried you since birth, and even to your old age I will carry you.

” In God’s love, we find a spiritual microchimerism, an unbreakable connection between ourselves and the God who knit us together, a bond sustained by the Holy Spirit. With each pregnancy, we are carrying a child that will always be with us, always be ours. For every nauseous morning, we are saying to the life within, I will carry you. With each mug of decaf that we wish was regular, we are making the essential sacrifice to say, I will carry you. With every grunt and groan as we pull on compression tights, with every sleepless night surrounded by eighty- six pillows, we are saying, I will carry you. During each moment our wombs hold a child, we are imaging a God who carries us and all of creation, forever.

Waiting for the Day

My friend Rachel and I regularly meet in the parking lot at a local state or regional park. As our kids pile out of our cars and sprint toward the trailhead, she will laugh as I pull out an apocalypse- worthy backpack filled with everything we could possibly need. I, in turn, marvel at the small bag she easily slings over her shoulder as I heft my overstuffed pack into place. Havewe ever used a buried item from my bag in an unexpected hiking situation? Yes. Do I often lug around ten extra pounds of unused pack weight? Also yes. I have always been like this, using preparation as a defense against anxiety and uncertainty. My first pregnancy was no exception. I read the entirety of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Twice. I was constantly checking for updates on what my baby looked like each week and what each stage of pregnancy should feel like, which led, inevitably, to a lot of Google- induced panic. The internet had convinced me that something was wrong so often that, at one point, a kind but likely annoyed midwife gently suggested I shut down my computer and just take a nap after one of my many concerned calls to the clinic. This was in the heyday of mommy blogs, and I scoured them for recommendations for the best car seats, best strollers, and best high chairs. During my pregnancy, I read copious materials about whether to use a pacifier, how and when to introduce solid foods, and how to have a baby sleeping through the night by Sunday. I combed Craigslist for used furniture, painted the walls, and watched videos about how to install the car seat. I was so eager to meet my baby, and I wanted to be totally prepared the day he arrived.

They call this nesting, a word that might sound patronizing, until you’ve watched a bird build its nest. There are some of us, like the humble city pigeon, who lay a pile of three sticks on the sidewalk and call it a day. We buy a blanket and some diapers and check nesting off the list. But some of us are more like southern Africa’s sociable weaver birds. As their name implies, these committed parents weave intricate and permanent community structures with built- in temperature variation, each Pinterest- worthy chamber constructed by a pair of parents as they breed and roost. I’d put myself somewhere in the middle of this spectrum of preparedness, but as I rounded the corner into my third trimester, almost all my thoughts centered on being ready to receive my baby. I laundered all his little clothes in baby detergent and lovingly folded them in a way only someone with zero other kids has time for. I obsessively cleaned the house and prepped meals. But eventually the day came when all my to- dos were checked off. The hospital bag was packed. The freezer was stocked. All I had left to do was wait. And for so many of us, waiting can feel unbearable. This is especially true if we are suffering through infertility or walking through a difficult journey of fostering or adopting. In these situations, the waiting is even more definitively beyond our control, and longing marks our days. It is difficult for us to imagine God waiting— God, the Alpha and Omega, who set the clocks of time in motion and omnisciently knows the future. But throughout Scripture, we see that God is achingly familiar with waiting. We do not know the exact number of years that the book of Genesis encompasses, but in Genesis 5, we read a genealogy spanning from Adam to Noah that contains at least nine generations, each one living many years beyond our average human lifespan. Suffice to say, it was a really long time from the account of the creation to the flood. Even more time passed before God’s covenant with Abraham: that early promise of Christ’s redemptive work coming around two thousand years before Jesus made his entrance on earth as a squalling, squirming infant.

Even then, Jesus waited thirty years to officially start his ministry— thirty years before revealing the beginnings of the miraculous harvest that Mary had seeded when she sang her Magnificat. She had waited three long decades to see her son unveil himself as Messiah when she spoke to him with surprising authority in a back room of a wedding. This was a mother who had waited to see the promised fruits of her labor poured out from water jugs as rich red wine. After the crucifixion, Jesus waited in the sealed tomb for three whole days, a parallel to the months he spent in the dark of his mother’s womb, before bursting forth into the blinding sunshine beyond the stone rolled away. Toward the end of his time on earth, Jesus told his bewildered disciples that he was going to prepare a place for them, that at some point in the future he would return for them, and that they would be together (see John 14:2–3). In that key word— prepare— we find a nesting God who deeply understands what it is to wait. Even now, God waits. He has waited millennia to make all things right, to free us from the curse, to restore the parts of his good creation that have been scorched and damaged almost beyond recognition, and to restore the parts of us that have been scorched and dam- aged seemingly beyond repair by sin.

The last weeks of any pregnancy are marked with the intensity of this waiting. We wake each morning wondering if today will be the day. We waddle around feeling like our insides are going to fall out and questioning if our hips will ever recover. We wonder if the baby will come, when the baby will come, but mostly we just can’t wait to meet the baby. In these long weeks, the veil is pulled back even further on God’s love for us as Jesus longs to be with us. Paul employs the language of maternal waiting to describe our longing for the redemption promised us in God’s coming work of renewal. He writes, “We know that the whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers together the pains of labor, and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies” (Rom. 8:22– 23). He is speaking to us, the would- be adoptees, speaking to our hopes deferred, to our knowledge of what should be as seen in the light of what actually is. He addresses our deep, instinctual yearning to be reunited with God, right alongside all of creation who flowed forth with us from the Weaver’s womb.

We can imagine an implied counterpoint of our longing in this passage. Maybe God is groaning in maternal anticipation too. We can picture a third- trimester God, a God who counts every kick and every hour, dreaming of the day when he can welcome us home. This God who waits is the God of wombs, and with each and every day that we carry a baby inside of us, we can better know this God who, like a mother, surrounds us with love and longs to someday hold us in his arms.

Practices

1. Take a few minutes to reflect on a God who is pregnant with love for you, groaning with anticipation at the thought of meeting you, who suffered in his own body for your sake. Reflect on how God is carrying you in spiritual microchimerism to this day and will do whatever is necessary to bring you into the completed fullness of new life.

2. The sacrifices that begin in pregnancy are often a foretaste of the work of motherhood that follows for the next two decades. From morning sickness and missed sleep to messy bedrooms and adolescent angst, motherhood is often an ongoing practice in service and sacrifice. When we consider how Jesus gave up equality with God to come to earth, we often think of his birth, but Jesus spent thirty-­ three years “emptying himself” on our behalf. As you go through your day, mentally clock the sacrifices you make—­ small and big—­ and know that God sees each one. Be comforted in the awareness that when we are called as believers to put the needs of others before our own (Phil. 2:3–4), as mothers, we are often already doing that steady work of devotion. Consider how God might long for you to be taken care of in this ongoing work of emptying yourself: What do your body, your mind, your spirit need to avoid burnout in the long game of mothering?

3. Think back to your pregnancies and remember all the logistics of getting ready for your baby to come. Or, if you are pregnant, take notice each time you do something to prepare for your coming child—­ whether it’s a prenatal visit or buying new pacifiers or organizing all the newborn clothes. Maybe you’re preparing to foster or adopt and are putting together a spreadsheet of all the supplies you will need while you work through a mountain of paperwork. Take some time as you do this to imagine God nesting, preparing a place for you, eager to be with you as we read in John 17:24, “Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.” As you long to meet your child, as you prepare a life for your baby that is healthy, happy, and safe, reflect on how Jesus longs to be with you.

Breath Prayer

Inhale: The weight of love is heavy.

Exhale: You carry me with love.

Elizabeth Berget, Love like a Mother

Brazos Press, a division of Baker Publishing Group © 2026

Used by permission.The Mother-­ Love of God in Pregnancy

If you have enjoyed this excerpt, please click the link below and order a copy (or several as great last minute Mother’s Day gifts) for someone you love.

Love Like A Mother

It has been an honor for me to be able to share this with you. I will be writing more on this book and all that I have learned about looking at the Divine as the source of love like a mother!

Grace and Peace to you

Matt Nash

Hope is fierce

Hope is a scar on the face

Pain mixed with purpose

Still sprouting flowers from the seeds of tears

Before I begin this Advent series, you need to know that this essay was supposed to have been written last Sunday. I returned home from church last week, on the first Sunday of Advent, Hope Sunday, with a bounce in my step from the morning. My plan was to write first thing Monday morning. I woke up sick and felt off for the rest of the week and today is the first day I have felt myself again. Today is the second Sunday of Advent and as soon as I hit publish on this one, I will write my reflection on Advent Peace for today.

Let me take you back a few months. We moved from California in June and arrived here in Rochester, NY exactly five months ago from December 1st. I was part of a beautiful faith community called Resurrection in Ocean Beach for 18 months and I was so anxious and apprehensive about jumping back into a local church. From June of 2020 until May of 2024 I was not regularly attending a church due to a lot of spiritual trauma and hurt I had experienced along with my family.

You see, I spent more than 30 years working as a pastor and we spent 4 years as oversees missionaries in Rwanda. Over my pastoral career, I did every position possible in the church: Lead Pastor, Associate Pastor, Outreach & Discipleship Pastor, Music Pastor, Youth and Children’s Pastor. . It was my whole world. I had become so enmeshed in being a pastor that it was more than what I did, it was who I was. It took years of therapy for me to work through separating who I am from the work I do.

So when we moved to Rochester, I really dragged my feet about getting involved in a church. Over the last two months I have had two friends that have really encouraged me to face my fears and re-engage with a faith community. I am so thankful for pastor of Gather Houston who has been such a great source of solidarity and grace. Also, another friend, writer and speaker who gave me a word she had heard from God for me in November when we were on a retreat together with . This is what she said to me,

“Who wins when you don’t engage?” - Becky Keife

This question completely cut through all of my built up anxiety and apprehension about becoming part of a church again. I realized that I was losing out on being part of a group of people that are on a spiritual journey and I was also keeping others from getting to know me as well.

Over the course of the first twenty minutes of the service, it was so refreshing to recite the liturgy of the Word together and sing together. When it was time for the sermon, the Rev. Lydia Arnts, who is becoming an ordained priest next week, began her sermon with these words.

Hope is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s a Sewer Rat

I was instantly attentive and sat forward in my seat and wanted to hear more. She said that the first Sunday of Advent was all about hope and there were two poems about hope she wanted to share with us. The first one was by Emily Dickinson and how hope is like a feather. It is a beautiful poem. Here it is for you to read:

Rev. Lydia said that for a lot of people, this poem does provide strength during hard times but there was a different poem that actually meant more to her and shows the fierce nature of hope. She said she actually related to a different poem that was a bit edgier. This poem was written by Caitlin Seida called, “Hope is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s a Sewer Rat.” I wanted to share it here so you can read it.

When she read this in church she edited the language a bit and said “patchy fur that’s seen some stuff” and “bites you in the shin” and said “swallowed pesticides like they were candy” which was probably a good idea.

One of my favorite sections of this poem is when Seida talks about how Hope thrives in the discards and survives in the ugliest parts of our world.

If this is not a perfect way to describe the world that Jesus was born into, nothing else is. First Century Judea was part of the Roman Empire. The people that were living in Judea were considered rejects and misfits in a backwater part of the empire. They only worshipped One God which was seen as foolish by the culture around them. They were the epitome of disgraced by Caesar in Rome. He had chosen a man who was half Jewish and half Roman to rule with an iron fist and he fulfilled that request. For a phenomenal essay that was recently written on King Herod, go to the Substack by my friend and pastor

The themes of Advent - Hope, Peace, Joy and Love are rooted in the difficult and painful events that bring forth their goodness.

As the poet Robert Frost reminds us, “The only way out is through.”

I resonated with how she talks about the gritty characteristics of hope like persistence, optimism, joy and perseverance and how those things can be transmitted. These words of hers remind me of the passage from Romans that talks about how hope is cultivated through the hard and difficult seasons of life.

“We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5)

Where can show perseverance this Advent season?

Who can you be joyful with this Advent season?

May you choose the path of fierce hope this year my friends.

Grace and Peace

Matt

All Are Welcome

Oh Winter

Falling crystals of intricate design

Awakening my delight and joy

For a season ripe with wonder

Let me be childlike again

Trust again

Hope again

Dream again

All are welcome here.

I went to sleep last night after having observed a light dusting of snow and gazing at it falling and then sitting down to write that poem. I woke up this morning to even more falling snow and took a walk and discovered the tree pictured above with the eye-popping red berries covered in pure white snow.

I understand that 1-3 inches of snow for this boy from California is no big deal and much more is coming. I am sure there will be frustrating days of winter weather but for now it is magical and I am 5 again in my front yard in Minneapolis, Minnesota as a child making snow angels on the ground.

There is so much happening in our world that could freeze you in a harsh reality of endless negative activity. Either doom scrolling on your devices, giving into temptations, or numbing out with a myriad of pleasures that would keep you distracted, any of these options do not bring about the thriving and flourishing you probably most desire.

What do you want me to do for you?

This is the question that Jesus asks a blind man in the book of Mark. His answer is, “I want to see.”

How would you answer this question today if Jesus asked you? Maybe he has been asking this question to you for a long time and you have been ignoring it or keeping yourself so busy that you don’t really look at what is the thing beneath the thing.

In my poem above, there were three words I connected to being childlike again.

Trust, Hope & Dream

Perhaps you could care for the childlike part of you today and ask yourself these questions and maybe journal what comes up in you:

Who or what do I most place my trust in?

Where do I have hope right now?

What am I dreaming about?

Sometimes we have a hard time seeing through the grind of our days and weeks. We get so overwhelmed with the tasks of caring for ourselves, our families, doing well at work or school, paying bills, shopping, etc. We tend to let the things that trigger us send us into a tailspin and we scream back to people, “You just don’t see things as they are.”

The reality is that, as stated above by this wise philosopher, Anaïs Nin, “We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

This phrase has been such a help for my own mental health and how I see others in the world. This does not mean we get a pass to be a jerk and do whatever we want. We have a responsibility to re-humanize people again.

In the world we currently inhabit, there is de-humanizing happening all around us. In countries that are far from us and right here at home it happens everyday. We are conditioned to protect ourselves and those near us and keep any threat to our comfortable status at bay.

This is not the way of Jesus.

We need to reclaim a sense of wonder about the world we live in. I am going to be using a book to journey through Advent called WONDER.

My friend, has written this as a guide to rediscover the awe of God and reclaim a childlike faith. This is what I want most between now and the end of 2025.

I am going to be starting this next week and spending the next seven weeks going through it for an extended Advent season. I will be posting more about it on my Instagram ( @matthewnash1 )and here on Substack. You can order the book HERE.

Let me know in the comments or on Instagram if you decide to join me in this. If there is a group of us all doing it together I would love to organize a Zoom call to talk about what we all are learning about ourselves, others and the Divine.

Here is to the ongoing adventure of trust, hope and dreams.

Here is to wonder and making sure all are welcome.

Grace and Peace

Matt

Dorothy Day with Homeless Christ. ( (Artwork by Kelly Latimore )

I grew up on the paved streets of Escondido, California in a neighborhood full of activity. We lived in a house on a corner lot and after moving to this house, my brother and I quickly turned our front yard into a baseball field. We both were on city league teams but there was something special about playing on our field. We had all the kids in the neighborhood that would come by and play and some nights we played past dark where we couldn’t even see the ball anymore and that is how we knew it was time to stop.

(Photo by Paul Sullivan)

I share this story to illustrate the power of inclusion, creating spaces where everyone is welcome without gatekeepers saying no to welcoming everyone.

We are at a watershed moment in the history of the world. We have a choice to make. Will we continue to divide ourselves into “us” and “them” and only surround ourselves with voices that support our preferences and biases? Or will we lean into being curious about people that are not like us and learn to see their differences as beautiful? My baseball field I played on everyday was like a table where we set places for whoever wanted to be there. It was a banquet of inclusion.

In the first century, Jesus did this as well. He did it through loving embrace of all people no matter their background or no matter their wounding. He often told stories that helped people see spiritual truth wrapped in paradox.

Paradox was the oxygen of the Kingdom of God for Jesus.

The first will be last

Love your enemies

If you want to be great, you must be the servant to all.

La Pietá (Michelangelo) in the Vatican

One of the most important spiritual practices that I teach people at Kardia Community retreats is called “Lectio Divina”. It simply means “divine reading” and it is a way of slowing down and letting the text enter your soul and heart and not just your brain. This is not about how fast you can read the text but simply how the text is reading you.

I want to invite you to simply read this passage from Luke slowly, two to three times and see what rises to the surface of your heart.

What word or phrase stood out to you?

What (if anything) did you sense God was saying to you through this passage?

Here is our text today…

One sabbath when he went to dine at the house of a ruler who belonged to the Pharisees, they were watching him. When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” (Luke 14:1,7-14)

Our gospel passage opens with a dinner with Jesus and some first century influencers, who craved to be noticed wherever they went. The text says “they were watching him closely” referring to Jesus but did not notice the Divine ground of being watching their inner soul while they were fighting for the luxury box seats

Jesus wastes no time breaking into a story of an event that all of them would have been at many times in the culture, a wedding feast. A wedding was often time a week-long celebration that would have involved the best food and wine in the village with people from all kinds of social circles, except one. There were groups that had been systematically placed at the furthest place from the front that even they had given up hope that their fate would ever change. Jesus names them here and to name someone is to notice them.

Who have we not named with full dignity in our world today?

Who have we not noticed?

(Robert Atanasovski via Getty Images)

Maybe the Pharisee who was hosting this party was hoping that having Jesus on his guest list was going to open more doors around town. Jesus is no carnival for anyone’s amusement though. Jesus is walking the earth to liberate all people with a heart bent towards restorative grace and healing both the inner and outer parts of people.

The entitled, religious elite of Jesus’ day, and many people still today live with a scarcity posture.

If you are living with a scarcity posture, desperate to secure the best places because you think someone is taking what is rightfully yours and there is a limited supply of good then clamoring for the best seat at a dinner party is a Darwinian power play – survival of the fittest and winner take all.

If however, like Jesus, you’re living with an abundance posture, where literally ALL people are welcome at the table and there is enough for all to be soul satisfied, and none are “othered” away from the grace and table of God, then you can be at peace with the lowest place in the back and leave the outcomes to God’s divine wisdom.

The people that Jesus mention in our gospel passage, the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind – these are representative of all the people in the first century who had been deemed unworthy of the mercy of God because of their choices.

If they would only work harder…

If they only weren’t so slow to move down the street…

If they only weren’t so dependent on others for help…

If they only could see like everyone else…

If only … fill in the blank

As much as some people like adventure in life, they don’t enjoy being disrupted. I am writing a book about this very idea. The research that I have done over the last five years with both people in the Bible and people today, the disruptions they experience all have one through line…

DISRUPTION IS A PATH TO JOY

Jesus uses a parable to turn their disruption up to an 11 on the amp.

He often spoke this way to show the subversive paradox that the categories of thinking needed to be shaken up for a new way forward to happen.

As Richard Rohr so beautifully said, “We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”

This is bottom up transformation.

Again, for Jesus, paradox is the oxygen of the Kingdom.

The Jesus way is the way of the outcast.

One of my favorite shows right now is the new season of Wednesday on Netflix. It is the dark story of how Wednesday Addams solves mysteries at her school, Nevermore Academy, is a refuge for kids with special abilities that are not understood by the outside world. It is a safe haven for those that have been “othered”

What if our churches can be these safe havens for people?

What if our homes can be these safe havens for people?

(Photo by Joanne Kim)

Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to meet and have coffee with an incredible and humble young leader named Jenai Auman. We had such a rich conversation where she shared more of her story and how those in power were so harmful to her and others. I was moved so much, seeing her resilience and courage to speak out and use her voice to help others was such a gift that week.

In her book, Othered, she says this…

“When people with tremendous power - especially spiritual power—believe they are “not enough,” they’ll use their power to other the neighbors around them. And to alleviate their anxiety and insecurity, they’ll call it faithfulness. Othering is a means people use to center themselves, but in doing so, they marginalize, scapegoat, exile, dehumanize, or attribute less worth to another human being to make themselves look better in comparison. Othering is a moral injury.”

I was blessed to be on the launch team for her book and you can grab a copy HERE

There is a lot of “othering” going on in our world today - and Luke 14 is a spotlight on our soul about how we will respond.

Our apathy and our addiction for curating a life where we can float above the call to love our neighbors as ourselves, has led us to choosing a dark path.

Many people choose Xenophobia which is an irrational fear of strangers that leads to all kinds of destructive behavior. We are seeing this play out in real time in the streets of our city and cities around the country.

There is another way though…

A new kind of hospitality that is not found in the halls of empire. When the writers of the New Testament used this word “hospitality” they were intentional to choose a word that would help people place real world grounding to their faith. The word is…

Philoxenia

Use that word next time to win Scrabble.

Philoxenia is a love of strangers that motivates a person to action. But it isn’t primarily a social response to dinner invitations. This kind of hospitality is radical love and compassion for those that we would prefer to ignore or maybe even have some had feelings for. It is a new way to be human.

When we make choices to sacrifice our comfort for the flourishing of someone else that may not ever be able to do the same for us, then we are most like Jesus in that moment.

This is how Bishop N.T. Wright talks about this parable, he says –

“We need to understand that the invitation to God’s feast is also a call to become hosts for others, transforming their communities and cultures to reflect God’s reign, making sure that everyone finds God’s feast to be good news.”

We have somehow lost the radical inclusivity of the Kingdom of God because our wealth and self-interest that would probably even disgust Narcissus.

I want to end with teaching you two practices that have been really helpful for me in this area of not choosing my own comfort and security over offering hospitality to people in need. My hope and prayer for you is that your love will speak louder than your certainty so you can embody a disruptive grace.

The first one is a simple phrase that I say this to myself when I feel like I am rushing to grab the place of honor at the table instead of letting someone else have that place.

The phrase is

Bless Them

Change Me

Liturgist and author, Aaron Niequist, taught me this helpful prayer that is also a practice. He says,

“Lord help me bless the person I meet next.”

The second practice is a journalling practice and whenever I have a particular hard day where I feel like I was moving too fast through the day, or if a lot of things bugged me during the day that threw me off my normal rhythms or activities, I will sit down at the end of the day and pull out my journal and I write the phrase

“The Irritant is Your Teacher”

(Thanks to my friend Ericka Graham for this phrase)

Then I will write down all the things that were irritants in that day. It may be situations, it may be people,

After I make my list, I go back through and for each one I ask the question –

How can this person or situation or event be my teacher?

Then I end the practice with doing an Examen prayer where I reflect on the day with these questions…

- Where did I experience gratitude today?

- What was I most thankful for (be specific)?

- What am I anticipating tomorrow?

I would like to invite you into doing these practices as well. The practices are not the point but they are a handhold as we journey up the mountain of spiritual formation. I use the metaphor of climbing a mountain because it is an experience that requires intention and resilience to reach the summit. It is not about arrival but just being on the path of formation and trans-formation.

Let me know in the comments if these practices have been helpful for you.

May we step into radical banquets of inclusion where we make open seats for everyone.

As Emily P. Freeman reminded me the other day…

“What if your next right thing wasn’t about you at all, but about seeing someone else clearly and naming their goodness out loud?”

Grace and Peace

Today is the first day of Passover and tomorrow is the day that Jesus entered the city riding on a donkey. As he entered from the East, (which is how humble prophets entered the city as opposed to arrogant rulers entering from the West), people placed palm branches on the ground and cried out Hosanna which literally meant “Lord save us now!” It was a political lament as much as it was a worship cry because of the Roman occupation of Judea.

Let us pause from this moment and go back a few years to the beginning of Jesus laying out what kind of world he desired to see come to fruition.

Allow me to let you in on a secret - it involved wine.

We will talk more about that later this next week. I will be doing a series this coming week with posts each day on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Silent Saturday and Easter Sunday. Each will have a short reflection with some questions for you to wrestle with. For now I want to take you back to moment where Jesus told a story about the dangers of putting new wine in old wineskins.

“No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better.’” (Luke 5.36-39)

Back in the first century, wineskins were made from the hides of animals, mostly goats. They would get stretched out over time and burst if anything new was poured in. Jesus was using these everyday things to open peoples eyes to deeper truth.

Luke 5 is written against the backdrop of a party where good wine would have been served. In this early point of Jesus’ ministry after a night of delight and feasting as the guest of Levi (Matthew) where the guest list included tax collectors, business and community leaders, religious elites and a motley crew of fishermen and rabbinical rejects, Jesus ends the evening seemingly giving an infomercial on sewing and proper wine storage.

Or is he speaking of a deeper reality?

One that is not built on just getting by with the status quo - the way things have always been. Jesus is changing the narrative for those around his table and for those of us around our tables.

When I began to sense a shift in how I understood God and my place, or lack of place in a faith community for a long while, I used a word to describe that world.

Evolving

One of my mentors, Sarah Bessey, talks about this quite well and has language for how I have been feeling and moving through the world over the last five years.

“To me, an evolving faith … has proven to be about the questions, the curiosity, and the ongoing reckoning of a robust, honest faith. An evolving faith brings the new ideas and ancient paths together. It’s about rebuilding and reimagining a faith that works not only for ourselves but for the whole messy, wide, beautiful world. For me, this has proven to be deeply centered in the Good News of Jesus ... An evolving faith is a resilient and stubborn form of faithfulness that is well acquainted with the presence of God in our loneliest places and deepest questions ... Anyone who gets to the end of their life with the exact same beliefs and opinions they had at the beginning is doing it wrong. Because if we don’t change and evolve over our lifetime, then I have to wonder if we’re paying attention to the invitation of the Holy Spirit that is your life.”

―Sarah Bessey, Field Notes for the Wilderness: Practices for an Evolving Faith

What are the questions that have been stirring in your soul lately?

Do they have room to breathe?

Evolving means you are giving yourself room to move from one stage to another stage in your faith journey. Philosopher Jaques Derrida is credited for introducing the idea that meaning changes and it isn’t empirically settled. We are always evolving how we understand words, ideas and texts. There aren’t too many areas of life where someone hasn’t pulled at the strings to uncover “the thing beneath the thing” as my friend Steve says as we grow to deeper levels of understanding our place in this world .

There have been many sociologists that have written about the stages of faith development. Probably the most notable have been Scott Peck and James Fowler. In the last couple years, author and former pastor Brian McLaren have simplified it into four stages from the original eight that Peck and Fowler developed. He calls them simplicity, complexity, perplexity and humility.

In the simplicity stage, everything is very black and white and dualistic. There are not a lot of grey areas and the goal is to please the authority figures and the goal is to learn answers. In the complexity stage, authority figures are more like mentors and coaches that help the individual be more practical in dealing with reality and the goal is learn to win and not lose.

When the perplexity stage is entered as people get into their 20’s and 30’s of life, there is a laying down of parts of the earlier stages that do not mesh with where they are at now. Perhaps some new postures and practices are adopted and they are asking harder questions and there is more room for doubt and mystery.

If we are brave enough and have others that are walking this path with us, stage 3 can be seen as an adventure or a quest for deeper growth and being able to exchange the old wineskin for a new one.

If we are open to new wine in new wineskins, then we are embracing the humility stage where we become more integrated with knowing ourselves and others better because we are curious and open to mystery. We ask more questions as we enter the “second half of life” as Father Richard Rohr says and the goal is to see life as a journey and not a destination. We are at home with not knowing everything and not letting our shadow side (our ego) run the show. We are comfortable in the discomfort and we pursue radical mystery and hold everything loosely. The beauty of stage four is that it is communal. It is about belonging to lots of different groups of people and celebrating diversity over conformity.

The difficulty is that there are a lot of people that are perfectly content to remain in the simplicity stage where there is no room for doubt, questions or mystery. Everything remains in dualistic containers (win or lose, us or them, right or wrong) that is very individualistic. There is no room for questions and very little interest in new wine.

Another reason I like the word “evolving” to describe myself over these last five years because it helps me “transcend and include” where I can learn new practices and rhythms and also celebrate the gifts from earlier stages but I keep moving.

Jesus offers himself to us as new wine.

Take a minute and listen to this great song about how he wants to make new wine out of us …

New Wine

The values of this process of remaking us into something new are

• Sacramental - centered on the gifts of the body and blood of Jesus and the waters of Baptism that Jesus participated in and left as a model for us.

• Ecumenical - beautiful expressions across a multitude of faith traditions

• Embodied - connected to our physical bodies since we are whole beings (mind, body, soul)

• Generous - wildly full of gratitude and open to everyone, everywhere with the love of God

• Spirit Filled - embracing being present to the presence of God everywhere

• Truthful - not centered on having all the right answers but being open to the questions

• Rooted in Love - our grounding value that gives life to all other values.

This is new wine in new wineskins

An evolving faith is also resilient and courageous. It is about asking deep questions and clinging to the Divine in the lonely and suffering times.

This journey is not for the faint of heart.

It is a Lord of the Rings type quest that takes you to the brink of despair and has lots of moments of darkness and shadow.

AND

It fulfills a deep longing and desire to live a life of significance and purpose. When we live for others and not just for ourselves, we gain gifts that are priceless.

Belonging.

Community.

Frodo and Sam have more dark days on their journey than they do light days. They carry each other when the other one is weak and wants to give up. They come home with scars they will carry the rest of their days in Middle Earth. What they also carry with them is something worth fighting for - each other.

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”

―Samwise Gamgee

My hope is that you have at least a few people in your life like Frodo and Sam. I know I do.

I would like to close this essay with a sonnet by British poet, Malcolm Guite.

Today we feel the wind beneath our wings,
Today the hidden fountain flows and plays,
Today the church draws breath at last and sings,
As every flame becomes a tongue of praise.
This is the feast of Fire, Air and Water,
Poured out and breathed and kindled into Earth.
The Earth herself awakens to her maker,
Translated out of death and into birth.
The right words come today in their right order,
And every word spells freedom and release.
Today the gospel crosses every border,
All tongues are loosened by the Prince of Peace.
Today the lost are found in his translation,
Whose mother-tongue is love, in every nation.

This is us allowing Jesus to make new wine out of us.

Grace and Peace

Matt

The Prodigal Son Returns (Art by Marion Honors, CSJ)

About 800 years ago, Jesus asked someone to rebuild the Church – St. Francis of Assisi. One day, while praying at the church of San Damiano, St. Francis felt Jesus speaking to him: “Go, rebuild my church which is falling down.” Francis thought God was speaking of the church building nearest to him which was collapsing from neglect. As he was doing repairs it became clear to him that Jesus was asking him to rebuild the church around the world through the practices of prayer, peace and poverty.

Church of San Damiano, Italy

These three words – prayer, peace and poverty, became the rhythms and markers for Francis in his relationship with God and marked his life for the rest of his days on Earth. If you had to choose a word that would mark the rest of your days, what would it be? Maybe take some time and think of what you would choose.

My word would be “hope.”

There are different kinds of hope in the world. One kind of hope, let’s call it anticipatory hope, is the kind that is always looking ahead to something coming. When I was a child and my parents would announce to us that we were going to Disneyland, I barely slept those nights leading up to my first experience in the magic kingdom. The anticipation was too much for my little 8-year-old body to bear. Every day that went by seemed to drag slowly as if there was some cruel villain controlling the clock. When the day finally came, I leapt out of bed and was the first one in the car! Anticipatory hope is the kind that finds residence in middle school dances and Christmas mornings. It is a dopamine machine this kind of hope, and for some of us, it is the fuel that powers our rocket to the moon.

There are lots of things that are worthy of anticipation and there is nothing inherently wrong with have anticipation for things. The challenge comes when we only live here and think that this is the only kind of hope we are allowed to have.

We also don’t do very well with hope spoken of in the past tense. It is amazing how one little letter can change everything for us. Add a “d” to hope and you have a very different view of the horizon. I hoped he would have gotten better. We had hoped to become pregnant. I hoped he would stick around for the kids. I hoped I would have got that promotion.

When hope is in the past tense, it can feel like hope left the building.

Sometimes there are no words that need to be spoken after a phrase with the word hoped in it. Sometimes silence is the gift that needs to be given.

“Silence is God's first language; everything else is a poor translation. In order to hear that language, we must learn to be still and to rest in God.”
— Thomas Keating

Try sitting for 3 minutes in silence and just notice your breath. Take a deep inhale and a deep exhale. Place your hands on your center or core and hold gratitude for your belovedness in the silence.

How did that feel? What emotions or thoughts came to the surface?

Did these few minutes start to plant the seeds of hope in the garden of your soul?

Another kind of hope that I believe is much more nourishing for our soul is participatory hope. This is an active, engaged form of hope. It’s about being using our agency to bring about positive change and working towards a better future despite the obstacles around us.

This is how my friend Jonathan Merritt describes these two different kinds of hope.

“Anticipatory hope suggests that someday, somehow, things will get better. But it’s fragile as an eggshell.

Participatory hope is rooted in the present. It sees the broken things and says, “Here is where we begin.” -JM

We must be willing to put ourselves out there and dare greatly. This is how we cultivate hope.

In her book, Daring Greatly, author Brené Brown says this about what participatory hope looks like.

“If you are not in the arena getting your butt kicked on occasion, I am not interested in or open to your feedback. There are a million cheap seats in the world today filled with people who will never be brave with their own lives but will spend every ounce of energy they have hurling advice and judgement at those of us trying to dare greatly.”

— Brené Brown

It is easy to sit in the cheap seats and be a cynic. Cynicism tends to isolate rather than motivate. Right now in our world, we are the most connected through devices than ever before in human history and yet the most isolated when it comes to engaging in real belonging and connection with each other. Often modern world struggles with offering unconditional, self-sacrificial love, often reducing relationships to transactional or conditional ones, not unlike the "love" that is rooted in superficial gains.

The antidote to cynicism is connection. We need to be more connected to a community where we can embody this participatory hope.

Where are you connected? Maybe it is to a small group at church or a group of friends that regularly do things together. We were designed for relationships, and we need to cultivate hope in our lives through other people.

In 2023, an amazing community of artists, poets, writers and creators I belong to called The Way Back to Ourselves had our first in-person retreat. The word that we chose to center around was Cultivate. We chose it because all throughout the Scriptures we see metaphors and imagery for the work that God does in our lives that begins in a garden where we are invited to participate with God in his creation.

When you cultivate soil, it is a messy process. It involves getting our hands dirty and having dirt in our fingernails and stains on our clothes that won’t easily come out. Are you willing to get messy to cultivate hope in your life that can be a gift for the flourishing of the world? Participatory hope isn’t just about feeling hopeful in a cynical world but living out love and hope through action.

In the accounts that we have about the life of Jesus, there are a lot of words, but there is action behind those words. Jesus didn’t just preach hope—He embodied it with other people. He healed, forgave, fed, and included all people. He exemplified a love that went beyond the cultural norms of His time. He reached out to the marginalized, forgave enemies, and healed the broken-hearted. His love was not just for the "worthy" but for all people, especially those society overlooked or rejected.

For so many people, the ways we extend love and hope to people are often conditional and transactional. It depends on how they treat us or what they do for us. For Jesus, it was not based on whether people "deserved" it, but on the inherent dignity and worth of each person as a creation of God.

How can we, as individuals, actively contribute to the participatory hope Jesus demonstrated? It could be through community building, confronting injustice, and loving our neighbors without expectations. Hope doesn’t have to start in grand ways. Small acts of kindness, forgiveness, and empathy can help shift the tone of society and make a tangible difference in people’s lives.

As I look around the world today, I see even more need for this kind of embodied hope. Despite the dehumanizing forces of cynicism, we can still love radically as Jesus did, bringing healing and light to a world that often feels dark and indifferent. We can cultivate empathy in everyday life, from listening to those with different perspectives to offering support to those in need.

We can set a longer table where all are welcome instead of building a bigger wall that divides people into “us” and “them.”

This image above goes well with a poem by Jan Richardson entitled And The Table Will Be Wide…

And the table will be wide.
And the welcome will be wide.
And the arms will open wide to gather us in.
And our hearts will open wide to receive.
And we will come as children who trust there is enough.
And we will come unhindered and free.
And our aching will be met with bread.
And our sorrow will be met with wine.
And we will open our hands to the feast without shame.
And we will turn toward each other without fear.
And we will give up our appetite for despair.
And we will taste and know of delight.
And we will become bread for a hungering world.
And we will become drink for those who thirst.
And the blessed will become the blessing.
And everywhere will be the feast.

When I moved to Rwanda in East Africa in 2010, I was moving to an “us” and “them” country. As early as the 1930’s, the people that were living in Rwanda and Burundi were all from the same people group. Colonizers came in and divided them into two “tribes”- the Hutu tribe and the Tutsi tribe. They gave power to one tribe while whispering messages of division, distrust and dissention among the other tribe. Over time, this resulted in civil war and genocide. There were three genocides in Rwanda – 1959, 1973 and the most horrific one in 1994. That year there was over 1 million people killed in 100 days.

When we lived there, we heard stories of how the people had spent 16 years trying to heal and have peace and reconciliation again. Every April, everyone in Rwanda spends a week gathering in groups in cities and villages to hear stories from those that committed acts of genocide and stories of survivors. Our first year I remember being in a remote village, far from the capital, where an older woman was sharing about how her husband and four children were cut down with a machete by a neighbor. That neighbor was standing right next to her as she talked. He had spent time in prison but was now back in the same community he killed people in.

Photo Credit: DuHope Rwanda

She spoke of the hope she has in a new world, a world centered on “Urukundo and Yesu” (love and Jesus in Kinyarwanda). She had forgiven him and now he helps take care of her in her old age. This is participatory hope. This is the kind of hope that defeats the powers of empire and evil. Let us go and do likewise.

Let us cultivate hope together!

Is there anyone who cannot feel a pulse? If so we have larger issues than this substack essay can deal with.

I wanted to begin this with this image from my artist friend, Scott Erickson that I have been sitting with this week. It’s called “PULSE” and it’s an illustration of a left hand checking the pulse on its right wrist. Light is shooting out of the wrist as a gold starburst of the presence of God.

It’s a simple idea, that we can check our own spiritual pulse, that we can take responsibility for our connection to ourselves and to the Divine.

This, I believe, is the gift of Lent, which our spiritual ancestors gave us when the Church calendar was created. Lent exists, not to be a moment of forced devotion, but as an invitation to check our pulse.

God doesn’t need Lent. All time is sacred to the Holy One so Lent doesn’t exist for God.

It’s for us. Humans need shared sacred moments, spaces, and calendar days. What Lent provides is a season in each year where we’re invited to pause, to check our spiritual pulse, to ask the Holy Spirit what is most needed, and listen for whatever next right thing God is inviting us to move toward.

What makes Lent powerful is its insistence on setting aside time in our lives to take our individual and collective spiritual pulse. What makes Lent powerful is that it invites us to make a choice toward honesty with God and ourselves.

It is a choice to get solemn about what we discover in our core and live that restraint in the ways we spend our time, in the space we create in our lives, in the practices we pour into the space we’ve opened up.

The season of Lent is a forty-day invitation to go inward. To move from the edges of our lives to the center of us, the places we most often choose to avoid. It’s a moment to ask ourselves:

Why do we do what we do?

What do we hide from others?

What do we most regret?

What fears and doubts compel our choices?

Lent is an act of Disruption

The Gospels are full of stories of Jesus disrupting the disciples’ worldview, in order to open them up to an experience of God they couldn’t have imagined before. He disorients their experience of the world to reorient them to The Really Real. In this passage, they encounter the depth and power of who Jesus is, beyond his human body. He is transfigured— elevated and shimmering with glory, locating himself between the great leaders of the Jewish people—Moses and Elijah.

Jesus only allows the powerful moment for a small amount of time before the sacred intensity is disrupted, the opposite of Peter’s request. In the midst of seeing Jesus as he really was, of being overwhelmed by glory, Peter wants that moment to be frozen in time, to make a holy structure so the power, the beauty, the meaning of the whole moment would never need to end.

I get that. One of My all-time favorite moments of my life was when Emma was placed in my arms for the first time in China. The sacredness of holding her and her clinging to me. In that moment there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be than right there in that room. It’s sacred because it can’t last. And this is an ache every parent must live with for the rest of their child’s life. We can’t hold onto their babyhood. They grow and change and separate from us.

And this is exactly what we want and not what we want at all, always at the same time. We can’t preserve the holiness of the most sacred moments of our lives. We can only move forward.

Peter couldn't preserve that moment either. The Holy Spirit moves over the mountain—a cloud passing through—leaving only Jesus. As my friend Michael Rudzena puts it, “the cloud worked to distill the moment “into the one thing that matters.” What is the one thing that is left after the cloud? Jesus is the thing. And what does he say when that one thing is revealed? He says, Don’t Be Afraid.

Fear is a powerful motivator for keeping power for itself and to keep others down - as we are seeing play out every day in this country and the world.

In her book, God Didn’t Make Us to Hate Us, Episcopal Priest Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail says that -

“Because all bad theology, in my humble opinion, keeps us chained in systems of oppression. All bad theology has its root in thinking God hates us: homophobia and transphobia, racism and misogyny, ableism and classism all stem from an anxiety created by the idea that God hates us and that we must repair this breach by receiving the forgiveness He offers, begrudgingly. So how do we melt away the fear? I believe it begins here: by looking at the heavens, and looking at scripture, and looking at God, and trying an older and wilder way of trust. It begins by saying: God did not make me to hate me; God made me to love you. God made me out of desire. God made me out of joy.”

This act of disruption is a thing Jesus creates over and over for his followers. The disciples praised the architecture of the Temple and Jesus told them that soon the stones of the Temple would be torn down. The disciples would often try to leverage something good for power, make something beautiful into something ultimate. Jesus shook that up every time.

Peter’s reaction, though heartfelt, is flawed. It shows both his awe and his misunderstanding of the moment. Peter wants to make it permanent, as if this transfiguration is the pinnacle of Jesus’ mission. But God interrupts him with a voice from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him, I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:5).

This is what we’re asking the season of Lent to do—allowing the comforts and distractions of our lives to be de-centered so that we give the Spirit free reign to recenter us. We are allowing the nonessentials to be stripped away. This is why Lent isn’t comfortable! When we are disruptions, our vulnerabilities are exposed. And exposing our vulnerabilities is actually the point of spiritual practices! We who follow Jesus are invited to see underneath the false allure of human achievement and power mongering embrace a different way of living in the world: The Kingdom of God, the Dream of God. The Really Real.

So in the Transfiguration, Jesus removes all the human pretense and allows Peter, James and John to see him as he truly is. He shows himself, and in doing so, reveals their vulnerability. That disruption revealed not only who Jesus was but also who the disciples were. Why else would Jesus need to say: “Don’t be afraid”?

This is what happens when we view Lent as a source of spiritual pulse checking, a source of disruption: First things get uncomfortable, then we are invited to be vulnerable. And we can’t continue as we did before. A choice is required.

How often do we, like Peter, want to hold onto the spectacular moments of faith—those mountaintop experiences where everything seems clear and glorious? But just as the cloud covered Jesus and the disciples had to descend back into the valley, so must we come down from our moments of clarity and face the struggles of everyday life. God calls us not just to see His glory but to listen to His voice and follow His direction in the world. Our faith is not built on the mountain alone but is strengthened by the journey into the valley, where we live out the implications of that glory.

After the Transfiguration, the disciples come down the mountain and encounter a father whose son is possessed by a demon.

The disciples come to Jesus and the father of the boy tells Jesus that they couldn’t cast it out and Jesus gets upset and tells them there is an issue with the amount of faith.

I grew up thinking this story was something the disciples did wrong more than something that Jesus did right.

In the message translation, it seems to make more sense for our world. The words that Jesus said were, "What a generation! No sense of God! No focus to your lives!

Basically, Jesus is telling them that they are not taking God serious enough. It is not a lack of intellectual faith but more of a lack of embodied faith.

We, too, can be slow to recognize God’s power and presence. There are times when we see only our limitations and fail to take God seriously, forgetting that His power is not bound by our weakness.

In fact, it is most in our weaknesses and our limitations, that we most can connect with God in a really embodied way. It is not about what we do, it is that We are human beings not human doings. In his book, No Man is an Island, Thomas Merton wrote about this temptation that we have to strive to do things for God instead of simply Being with God.

“We cannot be happy if we expect to live all the time at the highest peak of intensity. Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony. Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it. Without the alteration of sound and silence, there would be no rhythm. If we strive to be happy by filling all the silences of life with sound, productive by turning all life's leisure into work and real by turning all our being into doing, we will only succeed in producing a hell on earth. Let us therefore learn to pass from one imperfect activity to another without worrying too much about what we are missing”

Lent has zero extra powers. It is simply a season that has already been set aside for us to participate in that movement of disruption and vulnerability. It’s simply a natural entry point into spiritual practice.

This is our moment, not for self-improvement, but for disruption that leads to connection. A moment to lift up our wrist and check our spiritual pulse:

What does God have for us?

What will we do with this opportunity?

Check Your Pulse.

Grace and Peace

Matt

First a poem I wrote based on the above quotation…

Begin Again

Do you feel the beat of the wild in your bones

Ever stretching you past your breaking point

Calling you further into the wild where being tame is unnecessary

There you will begin again

In the fresh wind and fresh fire of Spirit

Photo by Aaron Loy

When was the last time you felt like you were swimming in a fishbowl of “behind”?

To put it another way, have you felt like your life is on display for everyone to see and all you feel is that you are “behind” and everyone else is “ahead.”

Maybe this is a present reality if you feel behind on a project or an important goal. It could be as simple as feeling behind on the laundry or housework or school. I think that being behind is more common for most people if we are honest and the pressure we place on ourselves can be so overwhelming and cause lots of anxiety.

It is not the amount of the things you do but the acceptance you have for yourself no matter what you accomplish.

You have nothing to prove

You have nothing to lose

When we live from a scarcity mindset of seeing everything as a competition, we can really overburden ourselves and get exhausted from the energy of our own effort. We hustle and grind at such a frenetic pace that we often can’t see before its too late. We become stressed out, worn out and burned out. We have to be able to lower the expectations we hold for ourselves to a more sustainable level and give ourselves the same grace we give others.

What if instead of scarcity, you and I operate with an abundance mindset? Where we hold what we do in a given day with gratitude knowing that Almighty Love (one of my names for God) is for us and not against us. The “abundance” idea does not mean that we will be spoiled with material wealth, it simply means we don’t have to try and take more than we need because there is not enough. You and I are loved more wildly than we can even imagine. With this blanket of belovedness, we are able to hold our schedule and our work with more ease and a pace that is sustainable for us and our souls.

In the organization I lead, Kardia Community, I spend a lot of time working with pastors, priests and others who never feel like they are doing enough and they never feel like THEY are enough. The pressure they place on themselves and their accomplishments is hard to overcome. Also the pressure that a local church places on their pastor or priest is unbearable. The statistics on pastoral exhaustion and burnout are staggering.

In late 2023, when Barna polled 523 Protestant senior pastors of varying ages and denominations (including non-denominations), they found that, “One-third had considered quitting in the last year, 60 percent had significantly doubted their calling, and 25 percent said they’d seriously doubted their faith.”1

Most soberingly, Barna says, “Nearly one in five Protestant senior pastors in the U.S. (18%) say they have contemplated self-harm or suicide within the past year.”2

The reality is that they live in a fishbowl of “behind.” They are constantly made to feel like they are swimming in a fishbowl and behind in the expectations and perceived value from the people they lead and from themselves.

Even if you are not in a position like that, it is easy to feel like you are swimming in a fishbowl of “behind.”

There never seems to be enough hours in the day to get everything you want done. Unfortunately even if we had more hours, it wouldn’t help because we would just fill them with stuff. We get so overloaded with what we think we should be doing that we lose ourselves in our work and our identity gets tied up with how much we produce. It is a pressure as old as the world.

This happened to me over a span of 30 years. When I graduated from high school I went straight to Bible College and was hired by a church as a Youth Pastor. I spent the next 20 years after college working with students (and their parents). We then moved to Rwanda where we were missionaries for 4 years serving people from twenty different countries at an international school and Bible college. In 2014, we moved back to America and for the next six years I was an Associate Pastor and then a Senior Pastor at two different Southern Baptist churches in San Diego.

During the early days of the pandemic in 2020, I crashed hard emotionally and physically from years of church hurt and dismantling the faith that I grew up with. I had lost my identity in the role of pastoring that when it ended, I felt like I had died along with my career. It took me nearly three years of healing and lots of therapy before I experienced a resurrection of faith.

When the world was made, the first humans decided to make their own identity separate from Almighty Love and found themselves hiding in a garden. Fast forward a few hundred years and the descendants of these first people were forced into slavery by the empire of Egypt and made to produce bricks. They had a certain quota everyday and if they could not make bricks, they had no further value to the empire. When Almighty Love rescued them and brought them into a new story, they were given instructions to have at least one day a week where they ceased from their production and work and got out of the fishbowl of “behind.” They were invited into a new rhythm where they wouldn’t have to hide anymore and they wouldn’t have to prove their value by what they produced. They were loved and reminded every week that they were enough and that they did not have to live a performative faith.

The temptation is that when we are feeling like we are not enough, we often go to places where we can mask that feeling with distraction. Often our hideout is the tempting cocktail of social media with promised belonging, doused in the bright lights of our devices, that flush us down a comparison chute that steals our joy.

What else in your life do you allow to break in and steal your joy?

Even outside of the usual suspects that can steal your joy - be sure to look out for the call that is coming from inside the house.

Yes, you and I can be the thief of our own joy. When we allow our overthinking to cloud the next right step that we need to take, that can steal our joy. When we live under the weight of the unrealistic expectations we place on ourselves, that can rob us of joy.

“The fullness of Joy is to behold God in everything”. - Julian of Norwich

Our mystic sister, Julian, knows a thing or two about having joy stolen. She was a Christian mystic from the 13th century and the first woman to have a book published in English. She faced lots of criticism as a woman leading in the church and was resolute to not let that pressure keep her from writing and meeting with people suffering from poverty, famine and the Bubonic plague to give them spiritual care.

Julian of Norwich, photo by Epiphany Forum

Let those words sink in - the fullness of joy is to behold God in everything. What would it look like to see God in everything.

In order to see God in everything, we need to first see God in EVERYONE.

Do you see God in your immigrant neighbor, your gay neighbor, your migrant neighbor, your neighbor who doesn’t look like you?

Jesus tells a story in Luke 10 about a Jewish man beaten on the side of the road and the two religious elites (who are both Jewish) that pass by, do nothing. It is the man who is Samaritan (a people group despised by the Jews of the First Century) who helps the man beaten and left for dead. Jesus uses this story to say that if your faith causes you to hate people, you’re doing it wrong.

Over the last couple years, a leader I have gotten to know in real life and has been really encouraged by her writing is pastor and author Sharon Hodde Miller. Her book, The Cost of Control, came out at a critical time for me in 2022 when my faith was evolving into something beautiful again and I was reimagining a way forward in my work life that was more balanced and healthy. She says:

“When it is not good enough to BE good, and we want people to also THINK we are good, then we are likely to protect our reputations in destructive ways. Why is our culture chronically anxious? One major factor is our relationship with control.”

So how do we escape swimming in the fishbowl of “behind” and let ourselves go wild in open waters?

We have to break up, junior high style, with control.

We cannot continue to pretend that we are in control and then when we crash and burn and are laying in a heap, exhausted and bloody, and then blame someone else.

The call is coming from inside the house. We have to take care of ourselves better

If we are going to swim in the waters of not caring about who is winning or losing, who is ahead or behind, who is living their best life or who isn’t - we have to practice.

When Michael Phelps, winner of 82 medals, was at the height of his career, he trained six days a week and had one rest day. His swims averaged 13 kilometers (8 miles) a day and at least 80,000 meters (49 miles) every week.

What practices work best for you to care for yourself?

Who do you need to spend time with that will remind you that your value does not come from who you please or what you produce?

Be gentle with yourself beloved

You have nothing to prove

Be still and know that I am God

Be still and know

Be still

Be

Grace and Peace

Matt

— Cynthia Bourgeault

Tomorrow is the beginning of the year 2025. When I was a kid in the 70’s and 80’s (yes I am from the 1900’s as my teenage daughter likes to say), I imagined that by the time 2025 came, we would be living in the world of The Jetsons. If you aren’t familiar with this brilliant cartoon from the 60’s that ran in syndication everyday when I was growing up, it is about this family… you guessed it - The Jetsons - who live in Orbit City.

Meet George Jetson. His boy Elroy. Daughter Judy. Jane his wife. (these are also the lyrics of the catchy theme song, IYKYK)

It made us kids think that our future was going to be just like their daily reality of flying around in space cars and going to the moon for camping trips. We also loved the innovations robot maids and food that arrives within minutes. Even though flying space cars are not a thing yet, we are not too far off from those last two. For a few minutes each week we were transported to Orbit City for space hijinks and fun.

The interesting thing about the show is that there is never any silence. There is always some kind of noise coming from somewhere. If it isn’t the​ sound of George’s flying space car that he goes to work in, or his loud boss Cosmo Spacely who yells at him constantly about his performance, it is from the sounds of George and Jane getting involved in their kids life or helping their robot maid Rosie or dog Astro fix a family crisis.

Silence. It is something we do not get enough of in our world. Yet our souls cry out for it everyday and we often fill that space with noise or activity. We sprint to catch the next train of adrenaline hoping that it will satisfy our deep longings “this time,” even though it never has before.

Stop and pause with me and let the ancient guides inform us on why silence is so important for the healing of our souls.

Silence is God's first language; everything else is a poor translation. In order to hear that language, we must learn to be still and to rest in God.
— Thomas Keating

There is no need to go to India or anywhere else to find peace. You will find that deep place of silence right in your room, your garden, or even your bathtub.
— Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

It is in deep solitude and silence that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brother and sister.— Thomas Merton

The nearest thing to God is Silence – Meister Eckhart

Which of those quotes most resonated with you?

About ten years ago, I began to explore a personality and character tool called the Enneagram. Ever since then I have read countless books, essays, articles and talked with Enneagram teachers and attended Enneagram summits. By no means do I consider myself an expert and I am not a crazy zealot for it either. It is just a tool to help understand your core longings and weaknesses as well as your fears and desires. It can help you understand the “why” behind your actions and emotions. It also can help you relate and understand others as well. If you have never taken an Enneagram assessment, my friends Beth and Jeff McCord lead an organization called Your Enneagram Coach, that helps people discover more about your Enneagram “type”. Here is a link if you want to learn more or do a free assessment.

Enneagram Assessment

Full disclosure, I am not paid for this at all. Jeff gave me some Enneagram coaching last year and it was immensely helpful. I am considering becoming a certified Enneagram coach with them in the future.

I tell you all of this because I am an Enneagram 7. Here is a window into my soul as a seven from my work with Your Enneagram Coach.

Type 7s love to plan and anticipate positive future events. They enjoy having variety and multiple choices to choose from. They do not want to be limited, restricted, or bored. They may be well-rounded, affirming, and generous, or at their worst they can be self-focused, an escapist, and have an insatiable appetite for excitement

What drives a Type 7 to think, feel, and behave in particular ways?

Core Fear:

• Being deprived, trapped in emotional pain, limited, or bored; missing out on something fun.

Core Desire:

• Being happy, fully satisfied, and content.

Core Weakness:

• Gluttony—feeling a great emptiness inside and having an insatiable desire to “fill themselves up” with experiences and stimulation in hopes of feeling completely satisfied and content.

Core Longing (message they long to hear):

• “You will be taken care of.”

  ---

Talk about feeling so seen and understood. This is like a mirror that shows me who I am and when I can be silent and pause the noise around me, I can embrace the work I am invited to do for my own growth.

How does this relate to silence? When I am my most healthy and grounded self, I am able to be satisfied and content with silence and stillness. I am able to meditate with Jesus and really enter a thin place where I feel so connected to God. My identity and worth do not come from what I do or what I accomplish. I can enter silence as a gift and not be overwhelmed with a fear of missing out and I know I am cared for.

When I am living out of my false self, my ego and my shadow side - which would be me as an unhealthy 7 on that day or days - I avoid silence and fill up the day with noise that would make The Jetsons shudder. I chase the next great adventure with the next one and am jealous of others when they get to experience things I am missing. I soothe myself with noise - usually music, podcast or audio book.

For most of my ministry career as a pastor and missionary, I did not appreciate the gift and spiritual practice of silence. I was always rushing from one event to the next and had several bouts of burnout and exhaustion because of it. I leaned on my training and my personality to always be “switched on” so that I could take care of others even though it was at the expense of taking care of myself. It wasn’t until 2020, when I resigned as lead pastor of a church in San Diego, that things came to the surface that I had been ignoring for years.

Years of ministry burnout, exhaustion and deep church hurt and over 25 years of seeking my identity in who I was a pastor, that I needed to go on a new discovery of who I really was.

Silence was the doorway to that journey. What is your relationship with silence?

Maybe begin with just a minute or two of silence first thing in the morning and then again right before you go to bed. This is a way to bookend your day and begin and end the day by pulling away from what can hijack our soul and trick us into thinking that a scarcity mindset is all that there is available to us.

I think that the obsession of new years resolutions is dying a slow death. Most people understand that making goals that are unrealistic and not grounded in community where others can support you are bound to fail.

What new rhythms do you feel like you are being invited into?

I would love to share a spiritual practice that you can do easily in about 5-10 minutes. For me, practices like this have helped me enter into a place where I can be still and centered on the Spirit of God, even though the world never stops spinning chaos like a full blender on high with no lid.

But first, take a minute and reflect on this photo in silence.

Photo Credit: Craig Landino

What does this photo stir in you today?

May this guided practice help you begin with a silent new year in 2025.

First Movement - Begin with sitting in a comfortable chair with your feet on the ground. If it is helpful close your eyes and place a hand on your chest to feel your breath.

Second Movement - Take a deep breath for 4 seconds and hold it for 4 seconds. Then release your breath slowly for 4 seconds and repeat this a couple of times.

Third Movement - Slowly practice these imaginative breath prayers. Silently say these words to yourself as you are present to your breath.

INHALE: O God, illuminate

EXHALE: A light for my path

As you breathe in, imagine light flooding the dark corners of your weary heart.

As you let your breath go, remember the truth that there is no doubt, worry, lament, or disappointment that the Light of the world can’t or won’t illuminate.

INHALE: O God of hope,

EXHALE: Renew my spirit.

As you breathe in, imagine hope as a small rock in your hand - although it is small, it is still hope. Remember that hope is never too far gone. Invite the God of hope into your doubts.

As you let your breath go, ask God to be near to your spirit this week. Remember that it’s not weak to need renewal — it’s human.

Fourth Movement - Spend 5 minutes or more journaling your feelings and thoughts of what came to the surface as you were silent and praying through your breath.

If this practice is helpful for you, please let me know in the comments. I would also love to walk with you this year if you feel like you need a space to care for your soul. In 2022 I began an organization to provide Spiritual Direction and also lead retreats for people and groups called Kardia Community

I will be hosting a series of online retreats this year as well as some in person retreats.

One of the many things I do as a spiritual director does is hold safe space for you; your questions, your feelings, your wrestlings, and your longings and then point you towards what God may be saying about your next right step.

If you would like a free introductory 60 minute session to see if spiritual direction would be a good fit for you on your journey - please email me here -

matt@kardiacommunity.org

One of my yearly rhythms is to watch Lord of the Rings during the Christmas break. There is debate about whether or not it is a “Christmas movie” (and all opinions are welcome) but I believe it is, since the Fellowship leaves Rivendell on December 25th. At one point when Frodo is despondent and wishing things had not happened the way they did, the wise wizard Gandalf reassures him that we have just one thing to do.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

―J.R.R. Tolkien

My hope for you is that you will use some of your time to enter into silence this year and see it is as a welcome guest and ask her to stay awhile.

Always in your corner,

Matt

This is a question that is often asked by Jesus in the Gospels. When you think about the people that Jesus interacted with and the great needs they came with, the question rings a little hollow or even insensitive. Almost like the others standing there are thinking, “Come on man, read the room.” I think though his question is deeper.

I feel like he is mining for a place in their soul to be uncovered and exposed. Sometimes we call this a longing, or a deep resonance. Or perhaps an ache.

Image by Sister Grace Remington

You can see the ache in this piece of art above. The ache in Eve after eating fruit that was not meant for her. The ache in Mary as she comforts Eve. The fruit all around are Figs and the fig leaves are what Adam and Eve covered themselves in after they both ate the fruit.

Sister Grace, who loves to doodle and make art when she is contemplating the presence of God in her life says that the inspiration for the artwork came while playing with the idea of the difference between Mary and Eve. Mary’s experience of living in a fallen world caused her to realize that we cannot stand alone in life.

Do you feel like you are standing alone in life?

Advent is about the ache. In the first century, Rome had its boot on the neck of millions of people. Their empire (think Darth Vader with black gloves) was powerful and nobody dared question them without dire consequences. They had turned death into a sport and killed people for entertainment. They often would crucify hundreds at a time just to send a message - do not mess with us or this will be you.

This is the world that a young girl from Nazareth is bringing a baby into. But not yet.

Mary had to wait 9 months before getting to hold her first child. We can barely wait a month for Christmas to come. We are obsessed with December 25 that holiday drinks and decorations start popping up in stores in September.

We are in our empires today are sending a message - do not mess with us and our holiday celebrations. We need to learn to feel the ache of waiting.

We build our resilience and perseverance by waiting. The waiting creates space in our soul for us to slow down to pay attention with what is disrupted in us.

Where do you feel disrupted today?

I know that my most disrupted times are when I have unrealistic expectations of a situation or a relationship that does not turn out the way I want or expect it too. I want things to go the way they are supposed to go and the way they actually play out. One of my growing edges is that I have to release the need to control the outcomes. Can you relate to me in that?

One of the best books I have read on this is The Cost of Control by Sharon Hodde Miller and it is phenomenal. I had a chance to meet her last year and share how much reading her book changed my life and gave me new practices to release control.

This time of year gives us a new opportunity to sit in the tension of the way we want life to go and the way life does what it does.

“In a very deep sense, the entire Christian life in this world is lived in Advent, between the first and second comings of the Lord, in the midst of the tension between things the way they are and things the way they ought to be.”

—Fleming Rutledge

The themes of Advent - Joy, Peace, Hope and Love - are a beautiful and important part of the Chistian tradition, but this time of year can be really difficult for some people or a very bittersweet time. We often associate a “party” culture around the holidays but for some people they want to do anything but party. We need to hold space for people to lament as well. The holidays remind people of loved ones that they have lost or times in their life where they struggled more that usual. Sometimes just gathering with family can cause anxiety or depression in people based on the relational dynamics at play. This was my experience for a lot of years when my father was alive. Holidays were tense and I felt like I had to walk around on egg shells around my parents. My father and I did not have much of a relationship and it made getting together with him really difficult and tense. I am now in a much better place thanks to lots of therapy and being more vocal about what I need and the boundaries that needed to be set up moving forward. The only way to heal was to move through the grief and tears, not to try and avoid it or go around it.

Isn’t that how life is though? We have to go through the dark night of the soul before the sunrise breaks over the horizon.

Rev. Isaac Munther, a Palestinian Christian pastor puts it this way, “Without the grief and tears of Good Friday, and the mysterious waiting of Holy Saturday, there can be no celebration and resurrection on Sunday. Joy is not separate from lament, both are valid expressions of faith.”

We can find Advent themes in the Easter story. There was a lot of painful waiting for Mary before she birthed Jesus. There was a lot of painful waiting for Mary again while he was in the tomb before he resurrected on Sunday morning.

My friend Steve always reminds me that we are Good Friday people in an Easter world. We have to sit with the pain and the ache before the new life comes.

All throughout history, hardships and feeling the ache has been part of the human story. In the First Century, the Apostle Paul, once he surrendered his ego and life to the Resurrected Jesus, he begins a journey to share the transformation he has experienced with others. He begins some churches in the city of Corinth, a booming metropolis Greek city that was the epicenter of progressive culture at the time. It would be equivalent today of London, Tokyo, New York or Paris. This new Jesus community is full of people with difficult pasts and presents. It is a mix of Jewish and non-Jewish people, slaves and free people and people that worship the myriad of Greek and Roman gods. It was a cultural melting pot. This church, 2000 years ago, struggles to see the hope, peace, love and joy in their lives. Just as we do today. Here is what he says in one of the letters that also applies to us today.

“If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us. As it is, there’s not much chance of that. You know for yourselves that we’re not much to look at. We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken. What they did to Jesus, they do to us—trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us—he lives! Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus’ sake, which makes Jesus’ life all the more evident in us. While we’re going through the worst, you’re getting in on the best!” (2 Corinthians 4:7-12, The Message)

Try reading these verses slowly a couple of times out loud.

What do you notice? What word or phrase stands out to you most?

This is how we become attune to the ache of Advent.

This section of Scripture is from one of the letters he writes this church. He wrote 4 letters to them in total, we have two of them in our Bible, they are the second and fourth letters he sent that we call 1 Corinthians and 2 Corinthians. If you happen to know where the other two letters are, they would sell for a lot online by the way. I chose Eugene Peterson’s translation because it is in an everyday way of talking, similar to how Paul would have spoken to his original audience.

Paul was like a lion for the people he loved in these churches. He was fierce for them.

The reason I call my Substack what I call it, Aslan on the Move, is because in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, the main character is lion named Aslan. Even when Lewis was creating the world of Narnia and there was no story yet, just pictures, and when Lewis was about 40 years old he said, “Aslan came bounding into it.” Aslan is the Christ figure in the stories. It was a way for Lewis to introduce children and adults to Jesus through the land of Narnia in the shape of a lion.

Aslan is always on the move.

Here is how Aslan is described in some of the Narnia stories…

“He is not a tame lion.” and “Safe? Of course he isn’t safe, but he is good.”

As one my favorite football players, Charles Woodson says,

“ A lion ain’t supposed to be tamed”

I have a thought for you - maybe you aren’t supposed to be tamed either!

Ten days from today it will be Christmas Eve. What if in the next 10 days, you and I went on a journey together to be curious about the ache within your soul in Advent. What I would like to invite you into is to sit with these questions and let them sink into the depths of our mind, heart and soul from today until then. If you are reading this after Advent, just look at it as a 10 day retreat where you can attune to the deepest part of you.

Here are the questions you can begin with and they may open you up to new questions, unexpected questions, that lead you to new places. Aslan is not tame and neither are you.

You are wildly loved and valuable to the maker and creator of all things seen and unseen.

Here are seven questions for your quest to discover the ache of Advent -

1. Where do you most feel the ache right now in your season of life?

2. What do you most want Jesus to say to you today?

3. Where do you most need Aslan to bound in and roar in your life today?

4. Who are the people you are doing life with that encourage you? Write a list of their names and what they mean to you and then tell them how thankful you are.

5. What are the “empires” that are competing for your souls right now?

6. Write down the three words that best describe your thoughts about God right now. How do you feel about those words?

7. What are you enjoying most about this particular Advent season?

My prayer and hope for you is that you will be able to slow down over the next couple weeks and untame yourself to bound along with Aslan on the journey. Feel the ache of Advent and remind yourself how loved you are in the light of the birth of Jesus and His love for you.

Always in your corner,

Matt

As we all know too well, change in life is inevitable.

The above image is our Advent wreath from church and it is made out of succulents. There are two special things about succulents. First they thrive in the wilderness. The wide expanse of their environment gives them the space to flourish without concrete jungles stealing their joy. People drive for hours and hours out to Anza-Borrego here in California to see them every year and some years we have a “super bloom” of succulents and wildflowers in the desert.

Do you feel like you are in a wilderness season?

Sometimes this season can be a flurry of activity and we need a slow walk in the wilderness where it is quiet and calm.

Where could use some quiet or calm in your day?

The second thing about succulents is that they are incredibly resilient. The harshness of their environment gives them the strength to endure a lot and come back stronger every time. Resilience is a strength that has been forged in the fires of adversity. My guess is that 2024 has brought some adversity in your life. It has certainly brought some adversity in my life that I have had to walk through fire though and have come out the other side stronger for it.

How resilient do you feel in this season?

Where do you feel like you are strong and courageous right now?

I believe you are stronger than you feel somedays and I have learned the gift of slowing down and being present with Jesus and that time with him increases my resilience even in the midst of changes. Advent can be this season in the hurry of activity, you can slow down and be present to the presence of hope, peace, joy and love in your life.

Advent is actually the beginning of the church calendar that followers of Jesus use to mark the seasons and rhythms of their life. I think that is beautiful because when we can begin a new season of our life with anticipation, the possibilities are endless. In our modern world, we live with such a scarcity mindset and a negativity bias. That means that we always feel like we have to scratch and hustle for our place and our provision. Listen to this quote by Lynne Twist, author of The Soul of Money:

“When our feet hit the floor in the morning we think “I didn’t get enough sleep” and when we go to bed we think “I didn’t get enough done” and what makes up the majority of our day is living with a scarcity mentality.”

We don’t have to live like this my friends. We can be invited into an Advent Anticipation of a better story.

Say these statements with me…

I have nothing to prove

I have nothing to hide

We also live with a negativity bias where we carry the negative experiences longer than we need to and let them weigh us down heavier than they should. I am not suggesting that we have a hopeless optimism or a perspective that only looks for rainbows and unicorns (although my nieces would celebrate that!). I would offer a posture of holding things loosely and open handed. When we can release our desire for control and outcomes that fit our needs first, we can change and live with an Advent Anticipation mindset - where hope, peace, joy and love are on the menu.

What changes are you anticipating this next year?

One of the changes that is coming for the organization I lead, Kardia Community, in 2025 is that we will be opening up more spaces for people to interact with each other. We will be hosting both online and in-person gatherings where people can come together and share the burdens they are carrying and receive the support they most need and then stay in touch with each other for ongoing encouragement.

We will also be launching a Kardia Community substack in January of 2025 where we will have more resources and practices for people to engage with and meet others that are interested in meeting at the intersection of soul care and spiritual formation. You can sign up on our website to be added to our email list that will receive these posts twice a month.

You can learn more about us here at KARDIA COMMUNITY

Kardia Community offers both individual and group spiritual direction and retreats for leaders. We can come to your church or group and offer a one day or multiple day retreat that helps people come away so they don’t come apart. We want to help people build resilience and reimagine a new way forward as they lead wherever they live.

When we lit the candles this last Sunday and began to celebrate Advent, I led our community through a breath prayer that I would love to offer you today.

A breath prayer is a way for your body, mind and spirit to say to God what your lips are also saying to God. As you take a deep breath, draw it in slowly and release it slowly. As you inhale say or sing the phrase below and the same for the exhale

Inhale: Jesus our Living Word

Exhale: Take on Flesh in me today

One of the gifts of Advent, is that receiving what we most need should be a priority, just as giving what other people need from us is important.

What do you hope to receive most from Jesus this season?

What do you hope to receive from those closest to you this season?

Poet, Malcolm Guite, in his book Waiting on the Word: a poem a day for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany has this brilliant offering about Advent -

“Advent is a paradoxical season: a season of waiting and anticipation in which the waiting itself is strangely rich and fulfilling, a season that looks back at the people who waited in darkness for the coming light of Christ and yet forward to a fuller light still to come and illuminate our darkness. Advent falls in winter, at the end of the year, in the dark and cold, but its focus is on the coming of light and life, when the Ancient of Days becomes a young child and says, 'Behold, I make all things new.' Perhaps only poetry can help us fathom the depths and inhabit the tensions of these paradoxes.”

My friends Deidre Braley founder of and founder of The Way Back to Ourselves (follow both of them by the way) helped me find my poet voice and begin writing poetry. I would love to challenge you to find your poet voice as well.

What could be stirring in your depths that can inhabit our world?

Grab some paper, a pen and a good cup of Tea or Coffee (or other holiday beverage) and let your Advent imagination loose and see what comes forth. You may have a beautiful poem in you ready to be born into the world.

Another invitation I would offer you is to take some time this week and sit with these questions found in this post and let them stir your soul for welcoming an advent anticipation into this season of your life.

Grace and Peace

Matt Nash

Email: matt@kardiacommunity.org

Instagram: @matthewnash1

Advocate, right? Yes, me too.

(Rose Window, Church of St. Mary & St. John, Oxford, England)

Advocate. That’s the name by which Jesus identified the Holy Spirit.

In John chapter 14, Jesus is encouraging his disciples that when he returns to heaven after he is resurrected, that they will not be alone. He has spent every day for nearly three years with them. This was what a Rabbi in the First Century would do. He wanted to see if they could do what he did and become formed as a student so they could teach others. If you add up the three years time together, minus lets say 8 hours a day for sleeping, the disciples spent nearly 17,500 hours together. Let that number sink in, 17,500 hours shoulder to shoulder with Jesus doing life with him and letting him shape your life. This was what spiritual formation looked like for Jesus. Life on life through the good, bad and ugly parts of life.

Today, people that follow Jesus are with the gathered church for an hour a week, or less than that, and we wonder why our formation suffers? Often times we allow a lot of other things in our life to take priority over our spiritual formation.

“We are all being formed into someone. For us, as apprentices of Jesus, how do we become more like Him? Our apprenticeship to Jesus needs to be stronger than the stories we believe, our habits, our relationships, and our environment.”

-John Mark Comer

Who are you being formed into?

Or perhaps a better question would be - what stories, habits, relationships or environment are you allowing to form you into?

Jesus knows that this formation will be hard for these first followers as hard as it is for us today. He knows that life is full of struggle and we will need an advocate and helper to persevere in the “right now” Kingdom of God until we are ushered into the “not yet” forever Kingdom of God.

Reminding myself that the Spirit of God is an advocate for me every moment of every day is one spiritual practice that I am doing more and more these days. Especially since 2020 when I started to experience intense anxiety episodes. When it comes on, I just pray a series of breath prayers that help me stay grounded. I take a long deep inhale of breath (4 seconds) and pray the phrase, “Jesus, light of the world” and then hold my breath for 4 seconds and listen the Spirit. I close by exhaling my breath slowly (4 seconds) and pray the phrase, “Be my peace and comfort.”

When Jesus is seeking to bring his disciples comfort, he opens a window into the life to come and then reminds them that their life, right now, is not to be thrown away just for the future life to come. He tells them to live in a way that shows people Jesus right where they are everyday. He refers to the Holy Spirit as both an “advocate” and “Spirit of truth” and that shows us that we will have both the source of comfort and truth.

He says, “‘If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.” (John 14:16-17)

Jesus is with the disciples and other people for 40 days after Easter and the 40 days is a significant number. It represents the restoration of 40 years of God’s people wandering in the wilderness and 40 days of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. On the 40th day Jesus returned to heaven. Ten days after this, the Holy Spirit comes and fills the group of followers of The Way (what they called themselves back in the day).

This day became known as Pentecost (means “fiftieth” in Greek). On this day, the promise Jesus makes in John 14 comes to being and the Holy Spirit comes and fills them. Because of the power of the Holy Spirit, they begin to speak in languages that all of the people understand their words about Jesus in their own language. There is a festival going on in the city so there are people from other countries who would not understand Aramaic or Hebrew and the disciples are unschooled. It is one of the first miracles in the book of Acts and a sign that they are full of the Holy Spirit.

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues ^{(“known languages”)} as the Spirit enabled them.” (Acts 2:1-4)

I wish the world only had advocates for people. Unfortunately, advocates are not the only voices we have to deal with. We also have accusers. Those can come from three main places - ourselves, others and an ancient enemy as old as the Garden of Eden. First lets begin with ourselves. Sometimes I get into my own head and get in my own way. I can be an accuser against myself with messages that add shame to my story. I tell myself, “don’t forget last time you failed at this” or “you don’t really belong here with these accomplished leaders.”

Sometimes other people in our lives, or on social media, can be accusers to us to attempt and derail us from experiencing a thriving and flourishing in life. We cannot give others free mental rental space in our mind and heart if they are acting as an accuser. We have to be able to have guardrails of what we allow into our lives and if needed, establish healthy boundaries.

Bréne Brown in my opinion is the world’s leading expert on shame, vulnerability, empathy and bravery. Based on the worldwide research she has done for over 20+ years, to me and so many others, she is like the Yoda of Social Research She has taught me so much about the power of authenticity and leaning into our true story of being formed by the one who made all things in this world. She says, “Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.”

One of the hardest parts about living in the world today is the constant comments we look at from other people. We crave the clicks and the likes and the follows that we lose ourselves in the process and the accuser voices are louder than any advocate we have around us. The dopamine gets released when our phone makes that “DING” noise and letting go of the pressure we put on ourselves (our own accuser voice) or the demands and pressure to be perfect that we feel from others so we avoid being accused of anything ever.

So far we have looked at two of the three accusers. This third one is more nefarious.

This accuser is even more of a destructive voice than ourselves and others, and is our spiritual enemy. In John 10, Jesus refers to him as the one who comes to “steal, kill and destroy” what the Great Shepherd is trying to care for and protect. I refer to this one as the “Big A” Accuser. The word in Scripture for Accuser is the literal meaning of the Hebrew word hasatan , which is where we get our English word Satan. This Accuser constantly harassing me with loud lies that, like the original lie that infected the whole world, seek to chip away at my trust in God.

The voice of the Spirit is not usually a loud cry in the streets, it is a whisper that we must hear. The problem comes if we are too distracted or our lives are full of hurry and striving, we will miss the gentle whisper of the Spirit.

Jesus promises to send an Advocate whose presence will unwind the deception within me and the whole world around me. Advocate. That’s the Spirit’s title from the lips of Jesus: the antithesis of accusation. The Accuser seeks to isolate me, driving me away from God. The Spirit nudges and prods me back in God’s direction, assuring me that, everywhere I turn, I am in His loving gaze. God does not argue against the Accuser’s lies. He simply shines the light of His perfect love into my soul – a love that, as I turn to face it, drives out all fear.

God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him... There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.   1 John 4:16b, 18 

We need to lose the false narratives that we carry around in our pockets. We need to exchange them for a better story, a story that is true about us. The voice of the accuser says things like, “what you want to do is impossible.” The voice of the advocate would say no to that.

“You are never too old to set a new goal or dream a new dream.” - C.S. Lewis

With the voice of the Advocate speaking into your life and resetting the tapes you listen to, we gain a new perspective. All of a sudden, we have a buffet table set with new words for a new life.

Possible

Achieveable

Able

What do you think is possible in your life if you release control of the outcomes and allow the Advocate (Holy Spirit) to make happen?

How could your dreams and goals be achievable when you silence the accuser and open yourself up to authenticity, empathy, vulnerability and courage in your daily habits?

What are you able to do that is realistic and within your healthy limits?

Part of this journey is asking -

what is mine to carry, what is others to carry and what is God’s to carry?

Sometimes the lifestyle that we most desire is not the one that is best for us and we have to hold onto gratitude and contentment.

(Photo by Matthew Nash, London, England)

The apostle Paul in the book of Philippians says this…

“ I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:12-13)

This is not about our strength (earning or our effort) - it is all a gift of grace. This also does not mean that every open door will happen for me or for you. I could talk at length about all of the tragedies, failures and hardships my wife and I, and our family have experienced in our lifetime. I have shared about some of them here publicly and will probably share others (but not all of them) at some point. Most, if not all of you could also share your stories and pain.

Let me say this next statement clearly, I completely DO NOT believe one ounce of the prosperity gospel that just says, “name it and claim it” or “manifest that into action."

I believe that God closes doors that no one can open. It does not matter how much “show” you give God or how much good work you can do for him.

Jesus wants you to simply BE with him and not feel the need to do anything FOR him.

(Photo by Matthew Nash, Rome, Italy)

In 2017, I got to spend several days in Rome on my way home from being in Africa for two crazy weeks doing church planting training and preaching. It was three glorious days of solitude even though I was in a city of millions of people, I felt like it was just me seeing everything. One of these days I will do a whole article just on the lessons I learned on that trip and some of my favorite pictures, food stories and experiences in Rome (I had a ton). For now, I offer the above photo that I took on the quiet ancient road known as the Appian Way. It is on the outskirts of town and very secluded. Some of the stones on the path are from the First Century and well worn. This is the main road in and out of Rome. It is the road that the Apostle Paul would have come into the city. As I slowly walked this path that afternoon, after spending that morning at the Vatican Museum, St. Peters Basilica, seeing the Sistine Chapel and then a couple hours in the ancient Catacombs underneath the city - I needed total quiet and solitude.

That is when I came across this ancient sign - Beata Solitudo

It means “Blessed Solitude”

Perhaps when it all comes down to it, the best way to hear the clear still voice of the Advocate is to get away from the noise and have some Blessed Solitude.

When was the last time you had significant time alone where you could have some stillness and physical, emotional and spiritual renewal? What would it look like for you to schedule some time in the next 60 days?

Maybe you are a mom of three kids that works from home and barely has time for herself

Maybe you are a busy college student, juggling classes, papers and a part time job

Perhaps your’e working two jobs and any down time you are just keeping it together at work so you can escape when you get home to binge watch that new series on that streaming service?

You could be pastoring a church, leading an organization or a working at a job that is a struggle and its draining your passion for ministry or joy.

No judgement on any of these or other scenarios I did not mention, I have been there some days (at least 3 of these 4 have applied to me at one time or another, you can probably guess which one does not apply to me) also and I completely get it, no shame here I promise.

I am more concerned with what voice you are letting in your head most.

Advocate or Accuser.

My hope is you choose the gentle whisper of the Advocate.

You are so deeply loved more than you know. Until next time.

Grace and Peace

Matthew Nash

When you wake up in the morning - what is your first thought?

Is it positive or negative?

I wish that I could say that every morning when my feet hit the floor that my first thought is always positive. I would be lying if I said that.

Often it is a worrisome thought or an anxious thought about something that is coming up or something that has already happened. It is 98% about either the PAST or the FUTURE.

But do you know what? I don’t live in the past or in the future. I only live in the present.

So do you.

The challenge is that we are usually consumed with either the past or the future, and that is thanks to an unwanted guest.

Let me introduce you to the unwanted guest that often enters my brain and yours - Negativity Bias.

This guest makes us give more energy and attention to negative thoughts or experiences that have a deeper psychological impact on us than positive thoughts or experiences. As Dr. Rick Hansen says, “Our brain has a negativity bias, which makes it like velcro for the bad and teflon for the good.”

I am a child of the 70’s and 80’s and so yes, I love velcro, I grew up with it. I don’t love it though when it comes to the negative narrative that wants to live rent free in my mind, heart and body.

Yes, our body keeps the score.

(Highly recommend the book, The Body Keeps The Score by Bessell Van Der Kolk)

We need a daily RESILIENCE RESET !

Most of us have a hard time allowing ourselves to reset because we are surrounded by things that keep us stuck, isolated and overwhelmed.

Let me ask you some questions for your Soul?

What is keeping you stuck right now in life?

Where do you feel isolated?

What is overwhelming right now in your daily life?

“We were never designed for the SEDENTARY, indoor, socially ISOLATED, fast-food laden, sleep-deprived, FRENZIED pace of modern life.” Steven Ilardi

And now….time for a Visio Divina (a spiritual practice called Divine Image)

(Artwork and Words by Seth Coulter )

Seth Coulter, also known as Saint Brigand (his Artist Name) and his work can be experienced here…. SAINT BRIGAND

Take a moment and just sit with this image - The Lily of the Bird

What do you notice?

What thoughts or words bubble to the surface of your mind and heart?

Being present is one of the best ways to have a RESILIENCE RESET

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.” - Søren Kierkegaard

We have a natural propensity to worry, it is part of brokenness that is all around us and inside us. The world was made whole and brokenness entered it when people decided they were the ultimate answer to their own problems. We need healing and a restoration. This is what Jesus offers us everyday if we choose it. I need this restoration every day and I bet you do also.

Here are some of Jesus’ words about worry…

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.” (Matthew 6.25-26, The Message)

One of my favorite books is Lord of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. In the first volume of this three volume work, The Fellowship of The Ring, a group of 9 make a journey from Rivendell to Mordor to throw the ring in the fires of Mt. Doom.

The other day I saw this funny post on Instagram and it made me think about resilience.

If they would have taken a boat, it would have been a much quicker and easier journey.

They also would not have learned as much about their own courage, strength, bravery and resilience if they had. It was the hard that made it good. It was the challenges and the difficulties that made them appreciate all of sacrifices that got them to where they wanted most, to remake the world again and have restoration.

“Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” Victor Frankl

The fellowship had meaning and purpose to their journey. We can as well.

What is bringing you meaning and purpose today?

Maybe take some paper out or a journal and make a list of all the things in your life that bring meaning and purpose. Do this daily or weekly for a while and see how many things are bringing you joy and helping you Begin Again with Resilience.

Here are two practices that are helping be have more resilience these days.

• Live at the Pace of Grace

  I am choosing to go slower each day and remove the rush from my day so I can simply be WITH Jesus instead of thinking I need to do things FOR Jesus.

• Cultivate Being Present to the Presence of God I am choosing to live in the present and not live in the past or the future as much as possible. As an Enneagram 7 I am always having FOMO and wanting the next exciting adventure so this practice helps keep me grounded and

  I tell myself “Be Where Your Feet Are”

“Resilience is really a secular word for what religion was trying to say with the word faith. Even Jesus emphasized faith more than love. Without a certain ability to let go, to trust, to allow, we won’t get to any new place. If we stay with order too long and we’re not resilient enough to allow a certain degree of disorder, we don’t get smarter, we just get rigid.” (Richard Rohr)

There is a pattern that we often see in creation, in ourselves, and in the Bible.

ORDER

DISORDER

REORDER

Theologian Walter Brueggemann teaches about this pattern that he sees in Scripture, and especially the Psalms. These are 150 songs/poems that were written by a variety of people experiencing all of the joy, pain, betrayal, delight, anxiety, love, depression, faith and thanksgiving of life. Most all of these psalms have this pattern. Some begin with Disorder and then finish with Reorder. Some have all three elements. The point is that just as there are seasons in nature (Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall) we have seasons of our journey towards RESILIENCE.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:7-9,16-18

In 2020 I ended a career that I had spent almost 30 years in as a Pastor. Those first couple years away from working and serving in a local church were really difficult. I had some trauma and PTSD from what had taken place and I really missed preaching every week and walking with people through difficult circumstances. It took time to heal and I am so thankful for my therapist and my spiritual director.

In 2022 I began a new organization called Kardia Community. “Kardia” is the Greek word for “heart” and our vision is to provide healing and strength for the hearts and minds of people everywhere. I wanted to care for people again and especially care for those that were caring for others - pastors, priests, non-profit leaders, missionaries.

I am a trained Spiritual Director and we offer individual and group Spiritual Direction. These are 1 hour sessions where we do some “holy listening.” Spiritual direction is a conversational and prayerful relationship of seeking God together through the journey of life.

We also offer retreats for churches and groups that intersect Soul Care and Spiritual Formation. We create an open, safe space for people to be authentically themselves and share with others what is going on in their lives. We also learn together different practices that you can take into your everyday lives to thrive and flourish.

In Spiritual Direction we try and defeat the false stories we tell ourselves and others.

What false narratives are you believing about yourself or your circumstances?

If you would like to see more of who we are at Kardia Community, click our site below

Kardia Community

My hope and prayer for you is that you will choose today to Begin Again if you feel like this year hasn’t gotten off to the start that you wanted. I believe you are stronger than you think you are and you can choose to have a RESILIENCE RESET!

Grace and Peace to you

Matt Nash

(Song by Leonard Cohen, Anthem)

Advocates Close, Edinburgh, Scotland (Photo by Matthew Nash)

We are often a mix of darkness and light. We want to think that we only emulate the light, the good, the beautiful and the joy. More days, if we are honest, we are living from the shadow, the rough, the pain, the darkness. We are often a mix of darkness and light.

Today is the beginning of the season called Epiphany in the church calendar. It originates from a feast day in the Christian tradition that goes back to at least 215 AD first mentioned by Clement of Alexandria. Many in church history consider today is the day that the Magi came to visit the baby Jesus and offer gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Gold is a gift for the living, Myrrh is a gift for the dead. What odd gifts for a baby.

These wise men knew who they were worshipping. They brought gold because they knew Jesus was a King, although not the one people expected. They brought myrrh because Jesus would offer his life as a sacrifice and his body (prior to the resurrection) was wrapped with spices, one of them being myrrh. The gift of the frankincense was just that, incense to burn as a pleasing aroma for an offering. Jesus’ life was an offering.

Do you see your life as an offering?

When we hear lyrics from a song like Anthem, that tells us to ring the bells that are still possible to hear the sound of music, those words can fill us with hope and joy. Then comes the wisdom - forget your perfect offering. Realize that perfection is not going to happen and being ok with that.

We pretend that we don’t need perfection but we hold ourselves and others to sometimes impossible standards and expect it. We have to let that go.

We also don’t like things that are cracked. We usually throw them away. They are declared worthless and no longer good for anything.

I am cracked.

You are cracked.

(Photo by Stephanie Ycaza)

“Kintsugi, which is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery. In this process, pieces of broken pottery are painstakingly joined back together using a lacquer that is mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. When the process is finished the resulting piece is more unique and usually more valuable than the original. Kintsugi is related to the Japanese philosophy of Wabi-sabi, the aesthetic tradition of embracing the beauty found in imperfections. According to Richard Powell, “Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.” (Stephanie Ycaza, Richard Powell)

It’s ok to not be ok.

Do you feel this in your skin and bones? Do you let yourself have days full of grief, sadness or darkness. Do you try to put on a “brave face” and pretend that everything is ok? Do you tell everyone, “I’m fine” when really the opposite is true.

It is good to show the cracks in your life - that is how the light gets in.

This season of Epiphany lasts for 40 days. What if you took these next 40 days and lived differently? What if you learned as much about yourself in the light than you do in the dark?

This is what it means to cultivate resilience.

Resilience is the ability to keep going in the face of tragedy.

What tragedies have you faced in your life? Where do you need resilience?

So often we see things in the world that disrupt us, three years ago today that happened here in this country. On the day that the presidential election was to be certified, there was a violent attack on the Capitol building and people lost their life. Five people died in the first 36 hours and another 4 police officers took their own life within 7 months of the attack. It was a dark day in this country. After all we’ve been through in our history, from independence to Civil War to two World Wars, along with other global wars, to a pandemic to insurrection - we are resilient as people and have not lost all hope.

I still have hope that tomorrow can be better than today. Why?

Jesus

It may sound too simplistic but I don’t think so. This is why the season of Epiphany is so important. We need the light to outshine the darkness.

Maybe this week you can begin to notice the days that you are standing in the light and when you are sitting in the dark. When you have either of these moments, here is a a prayer that is from the Epiphany liturgy that you could pray…

Let us pray
May we will be guided by the light of faith.
Father,
you revealed your Son to the nations by the guidance of a star.
Lead us to your glory in heaven by the light of faith.

Here is an exercise that may be helpful for you as you begin this new year and think back over this last year. I would challenge you to take some time and go deep, deeper and into the deepest places of your soul to build your muscles of resilience.

As Richard Rohr says, “We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”

As a Spiritual Director, I walk with people everyday that are living themselves into new ways of thinking. It is such sacred work that I am very thankful for. Many of these leaders are pastors who are caring for the needs of others sometimes more than their own needs or their families.

Romans 12:2 reminds us, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”

The word “transformed” there is the Greek word METANOIA which literally means metamorphosis.

The caterpillar is transformed and becomes a butterfly. New creature.

This is our journey. At least is should be.

“The people who know God well—mystics, hermits, prayerful people, those who risk everything to find God—always meet a lover, not a dictator.”
― Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer

God is love

God is love

God is love

I wanted to say it three times so it sinks into me and you.

God is not about control, that is not love. He gives every person absolute free will. We are ridiculously in charge of our choices.

For light or dark.

(Photo by Ian Black)

This is one of my favorite streets in the world and I got to be there again last November. I love it at night because the lampposts really makes this photo what it is. This was the first thing that the children see in Narnia…a lamppost that shows them the way home.

I feel at home in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Where do you feel at home?

O God,
who am I now?
Once, I was secure in familiar territory
in my sense of belonging

Unquestioning of  the norms of my culture
the assumptions built into my language
the values shared by my society.

But now you have called me out and away from home
and I do not know where you are leading.
I am empty, unsure, uncomfortable.
I have only a beckoning star to follow.

Journeying God,
pitch your tent with mine
so that I may not become deterred
by hardship, strangeness, doubt.
Show me the movement I must make

toward a wealth not dependent on possessions
toward a wisdom not based on books
toward a strength not bolstered by might
toward a God not confined to heaven

but scandalously earthed, poor, unrecognized…

Help me find myself
as I walk in others’ shoes.

Poem by Kate Compston, Bread of Tomorrow: Prayers for the Church Year, 1990.

My hope is that this season can be transformational for you?

Turn the lights up in your life.

Grace and Peace

Matt

“Epiphany is a wonderful celebration for those who are committing themselves more deeply to the process of spiritual transformation, for it contains themes of journeying from the known to the unknown with only a mysterious light to guide us.” (Ruth Haley Barton)

(Photo Image: )

For the last couple years I have chosen a word to center around as I begin a new year. I don’t do resolutions and instead do a series of goals on a vision board. I pray about the word and shape some of the goals around the word. This year my word is WONDER. The definition tells us that it is the desire to know something or to be curious. This desire is not something we do naturally as adults (we tend to lose it most between age 20-40 and it comes back if we do the hard inner work that many people avoid) but it drives children from a very young age. I remember when my daughter was little and the three letters that I never tired from hearing from her was…

W - H - Y ?

She had such a vibrant curiosity that she always wanted to know the thing beneath the thing and dig for the deeper truth. That phrase is also a nod to my friend Steve Carter’s book - The Thing Beneath the Thing. This book really helped me deal with a lot of past hurt and things that I thought I had resolved in my life but really had not. It helped me wonder what I needed to allow God to heal so that I could flourish and thrive.

You should get this book as we begin 2024 and let his five key areas help awaken your wonder and curiosity for transformation.

Click here to get this phenomenal book - THE THING BENEATH THE THING

These are the five areas that he helps us have wonder about. He says,

“The process lies in discovering our:

• Triggers: the setup that sets us off

• Hideouts: where we go to escape the pain of our story

• Insecurities: the false stories we create about ourselves

• Narratives: the false stories we create about others

• Grace: the place where we discover how to become whole, holy, and spiritually healthy”

  (Carter, Steve. The Thing Beneath the Thing. Thomas Nelson Publishing)

  One of the reasons we avoid looking at the thing beneath the surface of our lives is because we are moving too fast or are too distracted by our devices and our vices.

  This is why new year resolutions don’t really last because they are a temporary fix to a larger issue. I wish that I could say that our haste in doing things was something new because of technology and our society today. Unfortunately it’s something that people of every time period struggle with. Even almost 100 years ago, J.R.R. Tolkien had something to say about this. Remember he created worlds and languages and characters for an epic story as a subversive act of resistance to his world of growing technology and haste. In his stories, The Shire is a place of rest, calm and community. Where people go at a slow pace and enjoy life together. Mordor and Isengard are places where the speed of the machine of war and mass producing agents of evil are made to destroy the world. This is what Tolkien says about haste and what it can do to wonder.

  

  
  
  I love what Tolkien says here because most often, haste is the enemy of wonder. If we are moving too fast or too busy and hurried in a frenetic pace of life, we can miss the gift and space that wonder can be for us. It’s often the questions that are more important than the answers. My friend and poet @d.jacksonpoetics says “LIVE THE QUESTIONS”
  
  What questions are you asking right now? What are you curious or longing to know? A few weeks ago I was a guest on The Second Cup Podcast with @deidressecondcup where we talked about longing and desire. I also shared about some important spiritual practices that can help us slow down and embrace WONDER.

  If you would like to listen to that episode, you can find The Second Cup Podcast, on either Spotify or Apple Podcasts. If you want to watch the video interview, you can click here - The Second Cup Show
  
  Would you like to choose a word for 2024? My friend and co-creator @thewayback2ourselves created this slide image for me and others to put our word in and share.

  

  If you do this please use the blank one here and share with us and tag us in your post. We hope you join us for our poetry nights, and other events that The Way Back to Ourselves hosts this year. We always say YOU BELONG and we don’t just say the words, we believe it.

  What if this year can be different for you? So often we are not where our feet are. One of my favorite college football players is Blake Corum. He plays for the University of Michigan, the Wolverines. Go Blue! He always says, “be where your feet are.” Brilliant!

  “The presence of God is infinite, everywhere, always, and forever. You cannot not be in the presence of God. There’s no other place to be. The only change is always on our side—God is present, but we’re not present to Presence. We’ll make any excuse to be somewhere other than right here. Right here, right now never seem enough.But here’s the problem—we’re almost always somewhere else. We are either reprocessing the past or worrying about the future.” (Richard Rohr)

  What would it feel like for you to be present to God’s presence?

  Be where your feet are, in the eternal rays of goodness.

  

  I want to offer a blessing spoken over you, the reader, as we begin this year.

  May you experience a renewed sense of wonder as you begin this year.

  May you notice and name the parts of you that are wounded and need care.

  May you be able to identify the triggers and hideouts you allow to keep you stuck.

  May you be able to silence the insecurities and false narratives about your life that you have believed for far too long.

  May you wear the grace of God like a cloak knowing that you can be whole, holy and spiritually healthy

  May you step into the light and love and embrace wonder.

  May you be present to God’s presence.

  Grace and Peace

  Matt

In a dark night,

With anxious love inflamed,

O, happy lot!

Forth unobserved I went,

My house being now at rest.

In darkness and in safety,

By the secret ladder, disguised,

O, happy lot!

In darkness and concealment,

My house being now at rest.

In that happy night,

In secret, seen of none,

Seeing nought myself,

Without other light or guide

Save that which in my heart was burning

That light guided me

More surely than the noonday sun

To the place where He was waiting for me,

Whom I knew well,

And where none appeared.

O, guiding night;

O, night more lovely than the dawn;

O, night that hast united

The lover with His beloved,

And changed her into her love.

On my flowery bosom,

Kept whole for Him alone,

There He reposed and slept;

And I cherished Him, and the waving

Of the cedars fanned Him.

As His hair floated in the breeze

That from the turret blew,

He struck me on the neck

With His gentle hand,

And all sensation left me.

I continued in oblivion lost,

My head was resting on my love;

Lost to all things and myself,

And, amid the lilies forgotten,

Threw all my cares away.

(The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross, 1577-1599)

Today is the Winter Solstice.

It is the shortest day of the year.

It is the longest night of the year.

Maybe this year you have felt like you have fallen short in all kinds of ways. Perhaps you had a goal that you wanted to accomplish that did not exactly go the way you wanted it to. Sometimes our expectations can be so high that we experience intense disappointment when they are unmet.

Do you feel like you are in the middle of one of the longest nights you have ever felt or a series of long nights with no end in sight? Is the darkness all around you or does it seem like it is growing inside your soul?

It could be all of the above and that can be very disorienting. We as humans like to have things make sense and have good outcomes. We enjoy movies and television shows that wrap up all of the conflict and tie a beautiful bow on the ending with a happily ever after. Especially in our western culture, we seek to avoid pain and numb the difficult or dark parts of ourselves.

We don’t know how to sit in the darkness.

This morning, a friend sent me these words and they have been comforting as I have contemplated the darkness in my own life today.

The darkest day but what is dark? Dark is an opportunity for the light to pierce Dark is also a place to rest

The light and the dark are beautiful The light and the dark are our human reality Can I hold the tension? Can I find life in both?

So pierce me, light Pierce my darkness Enfold me, dark And let me rest

May I surrender to the full experience of life this midwinter day Amen

What if the dark can be a good place to rest? to refresh and reset? Can we hold the tension and not have to have everything be in nice neat categories?

We are usually taught to love the light and hate the darkness, this is something I grew up with in my evangelical circles. Everything in the light was “good” and everything in the dark was “bad.”

In the Narnia books, the White Witch is bright and pretty. She is the one that makes it “always winter and never Christmas.” Imagine! How horrible that would be. In the Bible, the enemy of God is described as once being “an angel of light.” Maybe we are looking at things poorly. Maybe we need to rethink the darkness and see it as a companion and not an enemy.

When you think of the image of a tomb - what words come to your mind?

Death. Finality. Sadness. Grief. Loss. Pain. Biting Wind.

We are so quick to look at a tomb as the end of a dream, the end of our story, the end of hope. Maybe the tomb can be a womb for something new to grow in you today.

What is being birthed in you today on the shortest day of the year and the longest night?

“Sometimes it feels like everything has to be okay and there’s no room left for our pain. Other times, it seems like nothing will ever be okay and there’s no room left for our hope. What if we welcomed this tiny revolutionary idea of being okay just for now.”

-Emily P. Freeman

The darkness of Calton Hill in Edinburgh, Scotland was a gift to me recently when I was there in November. This structure that you see in the center of the picture is popularly called, “Edinburgh’s Shame” and is a beautiful monument that overlooks the city.

Maybe the dark and shameful parts of you can be seen as beautiful because your journey is not over and the painful seasons of your life are an invitation to be curious. What can the darkness teach me about myself? What can shame teach me about God?

GOD IS WILDLY FOR YOU DESPITE YOUR PAIN AND SHAME.

GOD IS WITH YOU IN EVERY DARK MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE.

When Jesus of Nazareth begins his public ministry, one of the first things he does is turn jars of water into wine at a wedding feast. To run out of wine during the feast would have caused great shame to the host and Jesus knows this. He took what could have been a shameful moment and poured out a miracle. A few days later he came to the Synagogue and stood up to teach. He reached for the Isaiah scroll (yes it was a papyrus scroll and not a leather bound book) and these are the words he read…

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.

When these words were originally written, the people were in chaos and oppression. More than a thousand years later, when Jesus read them that day in the Synagogue, the people were in chaos and oppression. Not much had changed.

Today we are in chaos and oppression. Today we have the hope of Christmas as well.

We can hold these in tension and see the invitation to sit in the darkness and sing a new song!

Merry Christmas Dear Ones.

Grace and Peace

Matt Nash